Roots
by SpyKid18
Summary: When Sookie meets Eric Northman - the man who's come to Bon Temps to replace her beloved Firefly Theater with a shopping mall - she immediately dislikes him. Can he change her mind? Can she change his? Sookie/Eric AU AH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first True Blood fic and I've gone and made it an AU/AH. So...not really a True Blood fic, lol. But it does include all our favorite characters - just minus the fangs and changing at full moons. Hope you enjoy this!****  
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Chapter One: The Meet and Greet

The Firefly's the oldest theater in Bon Temps. Set back from the street, it has the majestic feel of those theaters you'd find back in the 1930s and 40s. Gran went there for the premiere of _Gone With The Wind_ and she'd told me about about it with more fondness (and more frequency) than her own wedding. I'd gone to that theater for as long as I could remember. It was there that I saw my first movie and had my first date. It's also where my strongest memory of my parents was from before they died. My parents, Jason and I had gone to see some Star Wars movie and I kept turning my face into my dad's arm during the scary parts. It was not only a part of my history, but Bon Temp's. And now some ass-hat from Northman & Associates was coming in and ruining everything.

They were replacing it with a mall. Those stupid people were taking down a town landmark and plopping some commercialized shopping center in its place. I had been so mad when Gran broke the news to me that if I could have spit fire, I would have burned down our entire house. But it had been weeks since the "A Better Bon Temps!" (stupid name, if you ask me) campaign had been launched, and I had come to terms with it all. Sort of.

"Look at them," I said, filling the last in a long order of beers behind the bar at Merlotte's. Arlene, the other barmaid for the night, glanced over at me and asked, "Look at who?"

"The suits," I said, jutting my chin toward the table in the back with decidedly not-Bon-Temps-patrons.

"You think they're here for that mall project?" Arlene asked, her eyes lingering on the table.

"I bet," I said. "You know, one of them asked if we had any craft beers?"

Arlene snorted. "They're definitely not from around here."

"Nope. They sure are not." I filled the last beer and said, "Think we should spit in their drinks?"

"Not if you want to keep your job," our boss Sam said, appearing on my other side. "Customers are customers, whether they're locals or not."

"What about scumbag suits who are only here to ruin one of the town's greatest landmarks?"

Sam smirked. "Even them. Now go bring them their drinks."

I frowned, muttering under my breath as I loaded the beers on the tray and then made my way to their table. They barely acknowledged me as I passed the beers out, too wrapped up in whatever they were talking about. I walked back to the bar and murmured, "I better get a good tip."

I was busy cleaning up the bar from an earlier beer spill when someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned around and saw that a lanky blonde had taken a spot at the bar, fingers drumming on the top as he waited for me. He was wearing a black v-neck tshirt that set off his pale skin. His eyes were a striking blue, like water from the Mediterranean. I pushed the dirty dishtowel to the side and walked over, plastering my best Merlotte's smile on my face.

"Hi, welcome to Merlotte's. What can I get you?"

"I'll have a beer," he said, blue eyes darting from my face down a bit further to things that definitely were not looked at in polite company.

"What type?" I asked loudly, pulling his attention from things below my chin.

He flashed a grin that made a jolt shoot straight to my belly. "Surprise me."

I nodded, moving over to the tap quickly as to avoid any further conversation. I could feel his eyes on me, and my stomach flipped.

"Get it together Sookie," I said under my breath. This wasn't the first time I'd encountered an attractive guy. It happened here and there, and I definitely didn't act like some skittish kitten. I was a professional, and that is how I would handle this interaction – like a professional. Content with my little pep talk, I filled a stein with our most expensive beer (he never specified the price of the surprise) and brought it over to him. He looked up with those blue eyes of his, and I was happy to feel just the tiniest of a pull at the base of my belly.

"Here you go," I said, putting the beer in front of him. "You want to start a tab?"

He shook his head. "I'll just pay now."

"Alright, that'll be five dollars."

He shifted on the stool to get to his wallet and I did a quick survey of my tables to see if any of their drinks looked low. As he pulled out a few bills from his wallet he said, "It's a nice place you've got here."

"Thanks, but it's not mine," I returned. "Sam's the owner. Built this place from the ground up."

"He did a good job," he noted. He handed me the money and said, "No change."

"Thanks," I said, skirting over to the cash register and taking care of his bill. I passed him on my way to check on the other tables and I saw him nodding appreciatively at my choice of beer. Damn right I chose a good beer. If you learn anything as a barmaid, it's beer. I made a quick run through my tables, seeing if they needed anything. One was in need of a refill, and I quickly got their drink out to them. As I returned to the bar the guy from before said, "You might be the most efficient waitress I've ever seen."

"Thank you," I said succinctly, not exactly knowing how to react to that.

"You're very welcome." There was a beat of silence, and as I glanced at my happy tables, I thought to myself that I didn't really have anything better to do than chat with this guy.

"So, what do you do? I'm Sookie, by the way."

"I know," he said, flashing a grin. "The nametag clued me in."

"Oh, right," I said, cheeks burning.

"It's very nice to meet you, Sookie," he said, voice practically caressing my name. It made me both excited and uncomfortable at the same time. "I'm Eric. I work for Northman and Associates-"

"You work for them?" I scoffed. I was definitely not hiding my true feelings here. He looked at me with bemusement and said, "Yeah. I work for them."

The way he phrased that set off my curiosity, but I was on the precipice of another Northman lecture, and not much could stop me. I leaned forward, palms on the bar, and said, "You tell those Nortman _bastards _that they are knocking down one of this town's greatest attractions."

"Are we now?"

I nodded. "Yep, the Firefly Theater is irreplaceable. It's wonderful and historic. It's…it's Bon Temps. So, you tell your boss that."

Eric smiled a bit, straightening in his seat, and said, "No need, you just did." I stared at him, not understanding until he silkily said, "I'm Eric Northman."

Oh boy.

He stood up and grabbed his drink, tipping it toward me as he said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Sookie."

I watched him walk back toward the table of suits and felt irritation build steadily in my chest. I had actually found him attractive? Well, not anymore.

"Who was that?" Arlene asked, appearing beside me.

"That was Eric Northman," I spit out. "And you need to take over that table, or I'm awful likely to spill all my drinks on him."

* * *

I successfully stayed away from the table of suits for the rest of the night. I noticed that Eric Northman kept stealing glances toward the bar, and it made me even more infuriated. That man was the reason that the place of many of my childhood memories was being destroyed. Sure, logically I knew that he was not the one to actually blame. It was Bon Temp's own mayor who had sealed the Firefly's fate. But it was late and I was tired, and Eric Northman was an easier person to blame than Bon Temp's beleaguered mayor who was only trying to attract tourists to bolster our town's flagging economy.

Arlene came over to me and pressed a few bills into my palm. "It's from the suits table. They tipped well, and I figured you should get part of it."

"Thanks," I said, counting the money quickly. The suits ended up being good tippers.

"Let me tell you, I don't mind them being here for a while if they keep tipping like this," Arlene said, not noticing the look on my face as she re-counted her part of the tips. She noticed my silence and looked up with wide eyes. "Of course, it's still total shit what they're doing to the Firefly."

She was clutching the money tightly, and I smirked as I stepped past her and said, "Nice save, Arlene."

"You know, some change in this town wouldn't awful," she offered gingerly, following me as I went into the back room. "I know you really love the Firefly and all, but-"

"I don't just love the Firefly," I said, tired of having to explain myself. It was so much more than that.

"We all have to let go of the past some time," Arlene said softly. "You gotta move on, Sookie."

I didn't say anything and she walked out, patting my shoulder as she left. I sat down on the stool and leaned my head against the wall. I knew Arlene was right. There was no use living in the past, but I couldn't seem to give that up. Memories of my parents were getting hazier with each passing year, and that theater was one of the last places that I could still feel them. I was scared that if I lost that theater, I'd lose them all over again.

I pulled myself from the stool and walked back out into the bar. I had some dishes to finish cleaning and I'd watch to make sure the last few stragglers made it out okay. When I walked out Eric Northman was back at the bar.

"What do you want?" I asked, unable to keep the edge from my voice. Arlene's words had shaken me, and he had this goading smile on his face that made me want to smack him.

"Is that any way to speak to a customer?"

That want to smack was turning into a need. "Look, I'm really not in the mood. Do you want something or are you just going to sit there and bother me?"

"Do you really dislike me so much just because of my company?" he asked. "Because my company has no bearing on me as a person. I could be perfectly delightful. I am, by the way. Perfectly delightful, that is."

I felt my temper rise and quickly tried to put it in check. This was no time for a big ol' Sookie-Stackhouse-blowout. Once I had calmed down enough to not throw a string of curse words toward him, I returned in a measured voice, "When the company has your name on it I would venture a guess that yeah, it does have a bearing on you as a person. And I'm very tired and about two smart-ass remarks from not having any control over my words, which would be bad since my boss is right over there on the other side of the bar. So, if you would be so kind, tell me what it is you want or leave me the hell alone."

Eric didn't say anything for a while, his steady gaze on my face. Just when I was about to ask if he had any response besides incessant staring, he pressed his large palms on the bar and stood up.

"Sookie, it was a pleasure."

I watched him walk away with relief. Sam came over and asked, "Was that guy giving you trouble?"

"No," I said truthfully. He bothered me, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. I felt exhausted, though, and turned toward Sam as I asked, "Do you think I could skate out a bit earlier tonight? I'm beat."

Sam glanced around the bar area and said, "Yeah. It doesn't look too bad out here. You go and get some rest."

"Thanks Sam. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Yeah, see you then Sookie."

I walked out into the dark parking lot and made my way toward where my car was parked. There was some piece of junk in front of me on the ground, and I didn't notice it until my feet were all tangled and I was careening toward the pavement. My head smacked against the pavement and then everything went blank.

* * *

I blinked slowly, returning to consciousness with a heavy hazy feeling in my head. There was a figure above me and as my vision cleared I saw it was Eric Northman. Of course.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, beginning to sit up. My head began to spin and I winced as I settled back on the ground. His hand was on my shoulder and he sounded like a doctor as he steadily told me, "Lay back, Sookie. You hit your head pretty hard."

"Why are you here?"

"I was pulling out when I saw your fall. Pretty spectacular one, if I do say so myself. You had very good form."

I could tell he was joking, but I wasn't in the mood.

"Can you please go away?" I asked.

"And leave you lying on the ground in a dark parking lot?" he returned. "I don't think so."

"I'm fine. I just…" I slowly sat up, wincing as pain shot through my head. "I just need to go home."

"You're not driving."

"Okay, you need to stop telling me what to do," I bit out. "I can drive."

"Really?" he asked, standing up. He stepped back, arms crossed over his chest. "Okay, then stand up and walk to your car."

"Fine," I grumbled. I could do that. I'd stood up lots of times. Walked to my car lots of time, too. Standing up was difficult, but I succeeded in getting myself into a vertical position, and told myself to keep up the good work and get to my car. I hadn't even taken a full step before my knees went wobbly and I lurched to the side. Eric caught me, his stupid voice stupidly telling me that he was taking me home. Stupid. He was stupid. And I was stupid because I was nodding, letting him put me in his car that was too nice for Bon Temps, and then I was telling him where I lived.

"I think I have a concussion," I murmured.

"Are you feeling sick?" he asked immediately.

"No." I said honestly. "I'm sitting in a car with you and I _don't _feel sick."

He laughed. "Maybe I've won you over yet."

"Don't count on it, buddy," I said.

He made it to my house quicker than I ever did and I thought to myself that he must have speeded. Another thing to put in his con-list. I went to open my door, but he had already climbed out of his side and was opening it himself, helping me out while I protested loudly.

"I can take it from here," I said, pulling away from here. I was still woozy, but much better than I had been in the parking lot. He hesitated, and for a moment I thought he was going to force me to let him take me to the door. But then he nodded, stepping back.

"Alright, good night then."

"Good night," I said, nodding definitively. I went to walk toward my house, but the manners Gran had hammered into me since I was a kid reared their polite heads and before I could go anywhere I mumbled, "Thanks for helping me."

He grinned. "As a rule of thumb I don't leave girls unconscious in parking lots."

I nodded, pressing my lips together. "Right. Good night, Eric."

"Night, Sookie."

I turned around and walked to my house. The front door was unlocked and I went in, closing it with a soft thud behind me. Gran was on the couch, waiting for me like she always did on my late nights at Merlotte's. She was asleep, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. I went over to her and gently shook her shoulder as I said, "Gran, I'm home."

Her eyes drifted open and then went wide as she took in my appearance. It occurred to me that I didn't know how I looked from that fall, and she said, "Sook, what happened to you?"

I touched the throbbing part of my forehead and said, "I fell in the parking lot. Tripped over something."

"You poor thing. I hope you didn't drive back here yourself?"

"No," I said, shaking my head.

"Good," she said. "I'm glad that Sam takes such good care of you."

I didn't correct her, reaching forward and taking a hold of her hand. "Let's go to bed, Gran."

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! I had a hoot writing it! Please leave feedback and tell me if you want the next chapter or not :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your feedback on the first chapter. Here's a nice speedy update for you all :D**

Chapter Two

It had been raining for days, and even my friend Arlene who loved the rain was having enough of the wet weather. Despite the weather, Merlotte's was crowded, and Arlene and I were working extra hard to accommodate all the customers. I didn't mind the work. It took my mind off of other things, like the fact that Gran and I were behind on paying the electricity bill again. We'd been living on less and less money since Gran retired, and while we usually did just fine, this month I was feeling the strain.

"Sook, you mind seating them?" Sam asked, touching my elbow as he nodded toward the family waiting at the front of Merlotte's.

"Are you ever going to hire a new hostess?" I asked. Our usual hostess Jessica had quit the month before and the waitresses had been covering since.

"I'm working on it," Sam said. That was code for no, and don't ask me again. Sighing I walked toward the family and set on my perkiest Merlotte's grin as I pulled four menus from the side of the hostess desk and led them to table seven.

"Your waitress will be right with you," I told them, offering another smile before heading toward the bar. Arlene was filling a drink order and said off-handedly, "He's here again."

I frowned, glancing toward the corner table. Sure enough, Eric Northman was sitting there. He came in every day at lunch, and each day I had stuck Arlene on him. Usually he was by himself but today he had a pretty blonde woman with him. She was dressed in a smart red shift with her hair pulled into a tight ponytail. When she turned her head I saw that her lips matched her dress.

"You're going to have to take them today," Arlene told me, voice apologetic.

"What? But-"

"Sookie, I have too many tables as it is," she explained quickly. "Is it really that bad to wait on him?"

"Yes, it is," I said shortly. Ever since he drove me home two weeks ago he greeted me with this sort of knowing smile that made me think I babbled on more in my post-unconscious-state than I was aware. The PR campaign for the "A Better Bon Temps" had also started, and every morning I heard him on the news programs talking about how great this new mall would be for the town. Great, my ass.

"Sookie," Arlene begged, green eyes imploring me to take the table. I sighed and headed toward the table. Behind me she called out, "Thank you, Sookie!"

I really had no choice. The table had to be served, and if Arlene didn't stick me on it, Sam surely would when he saw that one of the bar's most recent regulars wasn't being accommodated.

"Hello Sookie," Eric said with a wide grin. "Nice to see you."

"Sure," I said tightly. "What can I get you two to drink?"

"A beer for me," Eric said. "I'll take a surprise again. It turned out so well last time."

I half expected him to wink at me.

"How about you?" I asked his companion, pen hovering over my pad of paper.

"I'll have a water," she told me. "With three lemon slices on the side. And please use one of those cocktail skewers to get the lemon slices. I don't want your fingers all over them."

Wasn't she a peach?

"Gotcha," I said, scribbling their orders down. "I'll be right back with those."

I walked over to the bar, wincing when a loud clap of thunder went off outside. I thought to myself that the weather seemed appropriate for the Wicked Witch of the West's arrival. I got the beer and water. Before I grabbed the lemons I glanced at the table, and when I was sure she wasn't watching I gratuitously used my fingers to grab them. Take that, lady.

"Here you go," I said, arriving beside their table and setting the drinks down. "Are you ready to order or do you need a moment?"

"I think we're ready." He glanced at the woman and asked, "Pam?"

"Yes, I'm ready." She glanced up at me with cold blue eyes. "I'll have the chef salad."

"Okay, chef-"

"But I would like the dressing on the side," she instructed, voice as measured as if she were reading her order off a piece of paper. "I would also like to add chicken, but I'd like it cubed not sliced. I also would like it heated."

"The salad?"

"No, the chicken," she clarified. "And I'd like it on the side."

"Pam's a problem-orderer," Eric said, drawing my attention. "I probably should have mentioned that."

"It's fine," I said with a tight smile. "I've dealt with worse."

"Well, that's surprising."

"One more word and my stiletto is coming down on your foot," Pam said in her cool measured voice. I liked her better.

Eric grinned. "I'll take a burger, Sookie. All the fixings."

"French fries okay?" I asked. We'd recently added onion rings, and it'd been a big hit with customers. They were always asking to switch them in.

"Yeah, that's fine," he said.

"Alrighty, that shouldn't take too long. Anything else I can get you for the time being?"

"No," he said, flashing another grin.

I turned back toward the bar, checking on a few tables as I went down my usual path. Arlene was back at the bar, taking a moment's rest before the end-of-meal rush began. Her eyes were over my shoulder and when I got close enough to hear she said, "He never stops looking at you."

I glanced over my shoulder and frowned when I found Eric's eyes on me.

"It's annoying."

Arlene laughed. "You're crazy, Sookie. You have someone like him looking at you, and you find it annoying."

"He's the one tearing down The Firefly," I said, as if that explained everything. And for me, it did.

"A lot of people do things for money that they don't one hundred percent agree with, you know." Arlene sad.

"Oh, he agrees with tearing it down."

"He said that?"

"No. I can just tell," I said. I had no real proof of this, but he never tried to convince me otherwise. Granted, I hadn't exactly given him a chance to.

"You know, you're really stubborn."

"Yes," I said simply. "I do know that."

I saw my friend Tara sit down at the bar and she gave me a small wave. I moved over to her, filling a stein with her favorite beer before she asked.

"And this is why I like having friends in bars," she said, taking the beer.

"You still better pay," I said with a grin.

"I will," she said, taking a sip of her beer. "So, I saw that douche Northman is here again."

"Yep."

"It's ridiculous," Tara said. "First they're wrecking the place, and then they don't even get a Bon Temps contracting company to do it."

I was less unnerved with the last part as the first, but I could see her point.

"They shouldn't be wrecking it in the first place," I said. She nodded in agreement, taking another sip of her beer. I thought back to when we were kids and grinned as I leaned in and said, "Hey, remember when we snuck in and saw _A Nightmare on Elm Street?"_

Tara laughed, setting her beer down. "And we totally got busted. I've never seen your Gran that angry."

"She grounded me for two weeks," I remembered, grinning at the memory. Gran had thought it was such a punishment, but I just ended up reading books in my room for two weeks. It was less of a punishment than a literary vacation.

"There were a lot of good times there," Tara said. "A lot of good times."

Both of us were silent for a moment, caught up in the past. After a moment her head shot up and she said, "You know, I bet we're not the only ones with roots back to that place."

"Huh?"

"I bet there are lots of people with memories same as ours. Lots of people who wouldn't want to see that place go."

"Why haven't they spoken up then?" I asked. Sometimes I felt like I was the only one actually sad to see that place go.

"Why haven't you?" Tara pressed. "It's because they don't think they'll make a difference. One voice ain't going to be heard above all the clatter of that contracting company. But a whole lot of voices?"

She had a point. A damn good one, too.

"What would we do?" I asked, a bit disgruntled that she had this great point but neither of us seemed to have any clue what to do with it.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Get a group together maybe? Find people like us who don't want to see the place go?"

"Like a protest group?"

Her eyes lit up, and she was about to respond when Sam joined us and said, "Sookie, think you could put a pause in this conversation and go tend to those tables of yours?"

"She's workin'," Tara said, raising the stein of beer. He raised one eyebrow and said, "Oh, you actually going to pay for it this time?"

"Sorry Sam," I said, pulling my notepad out of my pants pocket as I went back out onto the floor. I went around the tables, taking orders, but my mind was elsewhere. A rush of emotions were going through me, the strongest of all hope.

* * *

All day the only thing I'd been able to think about was what Tara had told me. There were others like me out in Bon Temps, and by golly, I'd find them. I came up with the idea of going to the monthly town meeting in one week and stating our case for keeping The Firefly.

"A lot of the town will be there," Tara said excitedly. We were sitting in my living room, both of us on the couch with our feet pulled up under us on the couch. Gran wasn't home, otherwise she'd be yelling at us for having our feet on the couch. "It'd be the perfect time to get some more people on our side."

"Exactly," I said.

"I can make t-shirts!" Now that I was completely on-board with. Tara had been the go-to person for most club t-shirts back in high school, and that girl knew what she was doing. Plus, everyone knew any protest worth a damn had t-shirts.

"You do the talking," she added. "You're better at that."

"Okay," I said nodding, my body practically humming with excitement. We had a plan. There were actual steps to take. "This is happening," I murmured, almost unable to believe it myself.

"Damn right it is," Tara said. "We're going to save The Firefly."

* * *

Throughout the week I worked on getting ready for the town meeting. Tara and I both agreed it would be good to get some signs made, and while Tara was the master of tshirts, signs and posters were my domain. I went to the craft store and set myself up in the paint aisle to find some good materials. I was engrossed in the difference between apple and cherry red when someone spoke behind me.

"Hello Sookie," Eric said.

I jumped, knocking over about twelve little tubes of paint with my hand. I swore under my breath and immediately crouched down to pick them up. He followed suit, hand knocking into mine as we reached for the same tube.

"Sorry about that," he said. While his words were apologetic, his face was anything but; his eyes were practically dancing with mirth.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I muttered. "You don't sneak up on people in the paint aisle."

"As opposed to other aisles?" he returned.

"You know what I mean," I said irritably. "I nearly took out half the display."

"I wouldn't have pegged you as the jumpy type," he noted. "But, we're all entitled to be wrong here and there."

"What are you doing in a craft store?" I asked. Of all the places I could have bumped into Eric, the craft store was definitely not one I expected.

He shrugged. "Thought I'd take in the local scenery."

"So you went to a craft store?"

"They were advertising a sale on card stock," he returned. "You never know when you're going to need card stock."

I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to the paint in front of me. He didn't move, instead asking me, "What are you doing here?"

That was one question I was more than willing to answer. Especially to him.

"I'm getting supplies for my protest posters."

"Protest posters?"

"You heard me right," I told him, staring at the cherry and apple red tubes again. I went with the cherry. The apple wasn't strong enough. "I'm going to the town meeting on Monday to officially protest the tearing down of The Firefly."

I glanced over at him, expecting to see something in his face. Maybe worry or grudging respect. Instead, he looked positively amused.

"You're having a little protest rally?" he asked, voice just about as belittling as it could get.

"There's nothing little about it," I returned angrily. At least there wouldn't be once other people heard about the protest and joined me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be condescending." He tried to keep a straight face, but even I could tell he was failing. I wasn't someone whose feathers could be ruffled easily, but Eric Northman seemed to be pretty good at it.

"You just wait," I told him. "I'm going to get a group of people together and then we're going to convince the mayor to keep The Firefly."

"You do realize what a drain that place is on your town, right?" Eric said, voice level. "The repairs alone to keep the building to code are in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. The bottom line, Sookie, is that it isn't worth keeping. And no amount of grass root campaigning will change that."

I set him with a level stare and returned, "Then you don't know Bon Temps. We stick together and support each other. That theater is like an old friend to a lot of us. We won't let it go without a fight."

Eric grinned. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.

"You have a lot of gumption, Sookie," he said. There was the grudging respect I was expecting earlier. His smile faltered and he added, "That'll make it even more difficult when you inevitably fail."

"I-"

"And you should go with the other red," he said. "It'll pop more in posters."

With that he walked away, me standing there with my mouth open like a guppy.

**A/N: Chapter three is all written! So, reviews would be great. Hint hint...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your feedback on the second chapter! Warning - Eric is sort of douchey in this. But, there's a reason behind it! Which you will find out later! Yay!**

Chapter Three

I'd spent all week making the posters and doing my best with word of mouth at Merlotte's to get people to go to the town meeting. There was usually pretty good attendance, but I wanted it to be even better this month. We had real issues to discuss, and I had a protest to get on its feet. I was so nervous the day of the rally that I spilled three drink orders at Merlotte's. Sam eventually just told me to go home, saying I would cost him more money if I stayed. I was more than happy to comply.

I got to town hall thirty minutes early and took one of the front spots so that I wouldn't have far to walk when the mayor called for any general town business at the end. I was wearing one of the shirts that Tara made. It was purple and had a big firefly on the back. On the front it said in large white letters _SAVE THE FIREFLY_. I had put the posters out in front of town hall and had a stack of flyers with me to pass out when I went up to speak.

People began to trickle in and I got a few glances at the shirt. I was really waiting for Tara, to have a quick talk before the meeting to regroup. I knew what I was going to say, of course, but I wouldn't mind that friendly face. I was glancing over my shoulder when I felt someone sit beside me. Thinking it was Tara, I turned my head toward her and while I did so said, "Thank God you're here."

It wasn't Tara. Instead, Eric sat next to me, a wide grin in place.

"I didn't think you'd be so happy to see me."

"What are you doing here?" I hissed.

"I wanted to be here for the action," Eric explained smoothly. "Figured that was appropriate since I am a part of it and all."

Something occurred to me and my eyes widened as I said, "You aren't going to heckle me, are you?"

He laughed, the sound loud and booming. "No, Sookie, I'm not going to heckle you. There are more effective ways to shut down a protest than to heckle."

I glared at him. "I don't want you sitting next to me."

"I don't see anything saying this seat is taken."

"It's for Tara," I said forcefully. "My co-protestor."

"Co-protestor?" he repeated, eyes dancing. "Well, that's certainly a new term."

"Oh shut up," I said irritably.

I glanced over my shoulder again and saw that Tara had just walked in. I stood up and went to go over to her. On an impulse I turned back to Eric and said, "Don't follow me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

I walked back to Tara and she said, "Hey, you ready for this?"

I nodded fervently. I was ready. I had to be ready, because by the time there was another town meeting The Firefly would be torn down and there wouldn't be a thing any of us could do about it.

"The shirts really did turn out nice," Tara said, admiring her handiwork on me. "You know, I was going to go with orange but I'm glad I didn't. The purple is better."

More people began to file in, and I felt my nerves multiply which each new person. I'd been all for going to the town meeting – I'd suggested it – but now the reality of it all was seeming a lot more, well, real.

"Don't be nervous," Tara said, sensing my nerves. "I'm telling you, Sook, most of this town feels the way we do about the Firefly."

"I hope," I said.

My plans for sitting near the front were dashed by Eric's arrival, so I sat with Tara near the back. It ended up being better, as no one really noticed us as the meeting started and the mayor led everyone through the regular business. There were parking spots debated, and about an hour was spent on whether or not to put a traffic light on a barely used corner in the town. Finally the last part of the meeting came around and it was time for any general town business to be discussed.

"Anyone have something they'd like to bring up?" Mayor Newman asked, glancing around the room. Before I lost my gumption, I shot up out of my chair and said loudly, "I have something I'd like to bring up!"

"Ms. Stackhouse," Mayor Newman said, smiling slightly. "It's been a while since I've seen you at one of these."

I flushed. "Been busy, sir."

"Alright, what is it you want to bring up?" His eyes travelled to my shirt and I reckoned he had his answer right there.

"I want to bring up the issue of The Firefly being knocked down," I said. My eyes slid over to Eric, but I forced my gaze back at the Mayor. "You launched this campaign to bring about a better Bon Temps. But frankly, Mayor, that's a load of crock."

There was a collective gasp at what I had said. Sure, I had been a bit rude to the Mayor, but he was being mighty rude by going and tearing down a town landmark.

"This town has a rich history," I began. "It might not be a history that anyone outside of Bon Temps cares about, but it's our history. It's our lives that have played out on these streets and corners. It's our lives that have played out in that theater." I glanced around, trying to find personal appeals. I saw one of my old classmates and said, "Brad, I know you met your wife at The Firefly."

"I did," he said, smiling. "We were waiting in line to get popcorn. Both of us on separate dates."

I grinned, turning my attention back to the crowd. "And Jennifer, your first job was at The Firefly. Kevin, yours too." I turned back toward the Mayor. "See, we're not only doing a disservice to this town by tearing it down. We're doing a disservice to ourselves. This place is a part of all of our histories in some way. So, I ask you all to stand with me and fight for The Firefly."

I reached the end of what I had to say, and realized that I had never actually planned how to end it all. Clearing my throat, I tugged at the bottom of my shirt and mumbled a quick thank you before dropping back down into my seat. I caught Eric's face before I sat down and the way he was looking at me was surprising. Tara grasped my arm, smile so wide that it looked like it hurt.

"Sookie, what the hell?" she breathed out. "That was even better than I thought it would be!"

"Thanks," I said, my breathing returning to normal. There wasn't much business after my speech, and then the meeting was wrapping up and a number of people came up to Tara and I, telling us that they were unhappy about The Firefly demolition, too, but hadn't known there were others who felt the same. It was a rush of excitement, and I could barely keep track of it all as the crowd dissipated. Tara turned toward me and gave me a tight hug.

"Amazing job tonight, Sookie. We might just have a chance."

I grinned. "We can only hope."

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said, beginning to head toward the door. "We can start planning more!"

She walked out and I went to follow when Eric appeared at my side. I glanced up at him, expecting some snide comment.

"Alright, get to it," I said. "Tell me about how I only have failure ahead of me. It won't go anywhere. It'll lose momentum. Blah blah blah."

He grinned. "I was actually going to tell you that I underestimated you."

"You were?"

"That was a damn good speech," he said. " You really got the town's attention. Their sympathy, too."

"Thanks," I said warily. I had a feeling that Eric had some parting shot to impart that would undermine any compliment he had given me.

"Are you busy now?" he asked.

"No."

"Good, so I can take you for a cup of coffee."

I started shaking my head immediately, spouting off a whole list of excuses. I had just said that Gran would be worried if I was out late when he interrupted with, "Come on, after a speech like that someone has to take you out for coffee."

"Looking to show nice relations between you and the opposing faction?"

He laughed. "Sure. I also could really use a cup of coffee. Figure you'd make decent company."

Before I could stop myself I said, "Better than decent."

"Then it's decided. Merlotte's is walking distance, right?"

I nodded, wondering how and why I was agreeing to coffee with Eric Northman. Maybe there _had_ been some brain damage from that fall of mine. He gestured for me to lead the way and I headed off toward Merlotte's, him easily falling into step beside me. He didn't say anything for the walk, and I tried to figure out if the silence was comfortable or not.

"Here we are," I said brightly, gesturing unnecessarily toward Merlotte's. He at least had the manners to nod and pretend he hadn't seen the large bar right in front of him. We walked in and took his usual table in the corner. I realized that it seemed a bit romantic at night, and I wished we'd chosen one of the more casual tables smack dab in the middle of the room. I caught Sam's eye and he gave me a small wave. When his eyes went over to Eric I suddenly found the table very interesting.

"It's weird for you," Eric noted, watching me.

"What's weird?"

"Being here off duty."

"Not really," I said with a shrug. What was weird was being there with him. "I sometimes come here when I'm not working. We have a mean reuben."

Eric grinned. "Insider information here, huh?"

I nodded. "Our cook Lafayette is one of the best in this county, and his reuben beats all others."

"I'll have to get it next time."

"You should," I said with a nod. Arlene was working that night and she came over to our table, trying to hide her surprise at seeing Eric and I together at a table, and failing miserably.

"What can I get you two?" she asked, voice squeaky with her attempt to sound normal.

"Coffee," Eric said. "Two of them, please."

"Comin' right up."

Arlene went back to the bar and I stayed there with Eric. I had to admit, a lot of me wished I was going back there with her. I didn't know how this being civil with Eric thing worked. I spent so much of my energy being irritated with him, but he was sitting across from me being perfectly pleasant.

"So, tell me why The Firefly is so important to you," he said.

I was surprised by his question and said, "Well, you pretty much heard it all at the meeting."

"No, I heard why the town should want to save it," Eric said simply. "But I didn't hear why you do, specifically."

I couldn't see why he would care, but he seemed sincere about it all. Figuring there were stranger things that could be happening at this table, I didn't fight it. I told him about how I saw my first movie there and a lot of my childhood memories took place in the theater and lobby. I wasn't going to mention my parents, but then I ended up telling him all about them anyway. I couldn't stop myself. The stories kept coming and he was an attentive audience.

"I still remember the smell of my dad's coat," I said, gazing off to the side as I was transported back to that theater, cowering into my dad's side as aliens battled on the screen. "It was mothballs. We had them in all the closets, and our coats would reek of them. God, I hated that smell."

"And now?"

I returned my gaze to him. "It's one of my favorites."

"So, you live with your Gran now?"

I nodded. "My brother stays with us sometimes, too. He has a place over in Shrevport but he drifts in and out of here."

"He sounds like a winner."

I gave him a hard look. "We dealt with our parent's deaths in different ways. He found it easier to run away."

Arlene brought our coffees, but he didn't touch his. Gaze intent on me he asked, "And you?"

I poured sugar into my coffee and as I stirred it in murmured, "Hold on to anything around me."

When I looked up his gaze was on his coffee, the tendons in his neck strained. I didn't know what to say, since I felt I had already said too much. He asked a simple question of why the Firefly was so important to me and I ended up giving him my entire life story.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, gaze still in his coffee.

"For what?"

He glanced up and said, "For everything you're going to lose."

My grasp tightened on the coffee cup. "There you go underestimating me again."

He shook his head. "You don't understand, Sookie. I meet one of you with every project I do."

"Excuse me?"

"Sometimes it's protests about the building," he explained. "Sometimes it's the land it's built on. Whatever it is, the protestors always come out. And we always win."

"You don't know that," I held. Where had that grudging respect gone? Just when I thought there was actually a chance, he had to go and stomp all over it. In an instance, I felt all of my prior irritation toward him return.

"Yes," he said simply. "I do. We have more power, money, and frankly, more know how."

"You son of a bitch," I breathed out, standing up. I didn't use that word often, but if anyone deserved it, it was him.

"Sookie-"

"I can't believe I told you about my parents," I murmured. "I can't believe I…" The end of that statement was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.

"Sookie, I didn't mean-"

"We're going to give you a hell of a fight," I hissed. "Just you see."

I pulled money out of my purse and slapped it on the table. I saw that I drew Sam's attention, and thought to myself how satisfying it would be if I could drum up enough of a scene to get Eric thrown out of Merlotte's. But that would require being with Eric longer.

"Sookie, I didn't mean to upset you."

I flipped him the bird and stormed out of Merlotte's.

**A\N: Feedback would make me the happiest girl on the planet.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your feedback on the third chapter! I'm so happy you're all enjoying it! This chapter has a little character development and lots of Eric/Sookie action. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Four

It was a busy night at Merlotte's, and a raucous bachelor party had taken residence around the pool tables. They had already gotten handsy with a few waitresses, and I felt Sam's gaze on me as I went over to them with a tray of beers.

"Here you go, boys," I said, handing out the beers. One of the men closer to me took a beer and then slapped me on the ass. He accompanied it with a thank you, and I wondered in what backwoods he was taught that that was appropriate. I went further into the hoard of partygoers and one of the men slipped his arm around my waist, crushing me to his side as he slurred toward me. I recognized him as one of the guys on my brother's work crew, and I thought to myself how positively pissed off my brother would be if he knew this guy touched me.

"Hey there, Sook, you look damn fine in those shorts of yours." His hand moved down and cupped my ass. "What do you say I see you without 'em? I'll even join that group of yours."

Well, how nice. Now people would think I was exchanging sexual bribes for group membership. I might have been a small woman, but I knew how to take care of myself. I turned to the guy to my right and handed him my tray of beer. Without taking a beat I lifted my right foot and drove it hard down into the guy's foot who was holding me. He howled in pain, stepping back as I quickly made my way out of the group. Behind me I heard him yell, "You bitch!"

He launched himself toward me, teeth bared, and I turned around, hoping to get away in time. I heard a loud cry, and when I gingerly turned around I saw Eric standing there with the guy in a headlock.

"Is that any way to treat a lady?" Eric said, voice level. "Tell her you're sorry."

"You son of a bitch," the guy bit out. Usually I would have agreed with him, but right now Eric didn't seem too bad to me. Eric tightened his grip on the guy and his face grew redder.

"Eric, let him go," I said, rubbing my arm. The last thing I wanted was some guy being knocked out because of me. Eric hesitated but then let him go, giving him a parting shove. The guy staggered to the side and I half expected him to lunge toward Eric, but he kept his distance.

Eric came over to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

I pulled away from his touch and mumbled, "I'm fine."

He went to say something else but I turned away and returned to the bar. Sam stormed over to the group, his face angrier than I'd ever seen it, and he pointed toward the door as he yelled, "Out! I want all of you out right now!"

The bachelor party hesitated and Sam yelled, "You really want me to call the police? You guys harassed my waitresses enough. Now move your asses!"

The group grudgingly left and Sam came over to me, putting his hand on my arm asking, "You okay, Sookie?"

"I'm fine," I told him. "Nothing I can't handle."

"I hate those damn bachelor parties. We make money, but that's about the only good thing about them."

"You might make money," I said. "But the waitresses sure don't. Bachelor parties are terrible tippers."

You'd think all the excessive drinking would make them looser with their money, but it ended up having the opposite effect as they just forgot about tipping all together.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'm okay. Promise."

I skirted behind the bar, stealing a glance at Eric who had taken his spot again at his usual table. He was scrolling through his phone, but when he sensed my gaze he looked up. I turned away quickly, heading toward the backroom to refill salt shakers or do something that wasn't standing at the bar either dealing with him or the bachelor party.

I knew I should have been nicer to him and all since he probably saved me from being knocked over by that other guy, but I was still smarting from the night before. I had told him personal things about myself. Those stories of my parents weren't told to just anyone, and he had to go ahead and tell me that it basically wasn't worth anything. Those memories were rot compared to his, what did he call it, wealth and know how? Well, he could stick that wealth and know how you-know -where.

When I saw there was really nothing to do in the back room, I told myself to suck it up and went back out into the bar. To my surprise (and relief) I found Eric's table empty.

BBBBB

The next day I was off from Merlotte's and I spent the entire afternoon sunning myself in Gran's front yard. I hadn't been able to lay out as much as I'd like this summer and was happy to finally see my skin turning a little browner. I was pretty pale in the off-season so I liked to get some color when I could. After a relaxing afternoon of sun and iced tea, I went inside and whipped up some dinner before Gran's Daughters of the Glorious Dead meeting.

Their meetings were held once a month, and all the old bitties in town came over to our house and talked about the old days over cups of tea and little pastries. I think it started off as a fundraising group back when it was first started in the 1950s, but now it was just a bunch of old women swapping stories. I used to sit with them, but as I've gotten older the topic du jour had become my non-existent love life. All of them seem baffled as to why I was single. They always wanted some answer, which I didn't have. So to avoid hours of dogged questions about why I wasn't dating someone and if I thought I'd be alone forever, I usually stayed up in my room now. I was up there when I heard a familiar deep voice downstairs.

I thought I was imagining things at first, but then I went over to my door and opened it just a bit. I heard the voice again – unmistakably Eric – and the old women erupted into raucous laughter. Wanting to know just what the hell Eric Northman was doing at my house, I went downstairs and saw that he was seated on the loveseat next to Gran, the entire room seemingly in the palm of his hand.

"Eric, what are you doing here?" I blurted out, the tone of my voice not exactly kind. Gran's eyes widened and she said, "Sookie Stackhouse, where are your manners? Is that any way to treat a guest?"

My cheeks flushed first out of chagrin, but then something else when I saw Eric smirking. How dare he smirk in my house.

"Sorry Gran," I said, sitting down on one of the spare seats.

"Eric was just telling us about his time in Paris. Such wonderful stories!"

"I lived there for a year when I was in college," he said smoothly.

"Of course you did," I mumbled.

"Do tell us more," Gran cooed. "You were telling us about some altercation you got into with a mime?"

"Yes," Eric said, his grin widening. "I was in the Jardin du Luxembourg with a lady friend of mine." His eyes slid toward me, and I rolled my eyes. "We were just strolling through the park and enjoying the sights – like any two tourists would. We encountered this mime along the way, and we stopped to watch his little act. It was all rather entertaining until he started flirting with my date. I thought it was all good fun until he slipped her his phone number."

Gran laughed at the turn of events, and even I had to admit that it was mildly amusing. One of the other women, Gertrude who always wore too much lipstick, asked, "What happened?"

"She went on a date with him," Eric said. "They've been married for three years now."

"How delightful!" Gran enthused. "Is he still a mime now?"

Eric laughed. "No. She made an honest man out of him once they began dating. I think he works in a shop now."

"Such a wonderful story," another woman said. "We should have you at all of these meetings."

"You mean the meetings of the _daughters _of the glorious dead?" I asked.

"We're a very inclusive group."

Eric grinned and told them, "I would be more than happy to keep you lovely ladies company whenever you'd like. Right now, however, I have some business I need to attend to with Sookie."

"What sort of business?" Gran asked, glancing between us.

"Nothing serious," Eric assured her. "Do you mind if I steal her away for a moment?"

"Of course not!" Gran said immediately. "You two go for a walk. I can have some fresh tea made for when you come back."

"That sounds fantastic. Thank you, Mrs. Stackhouse."

He rose from the couch and glanced over at me. If it had been any other time I would have told him flat out no. But the entirety of the Daughters of the Glorious Dead was staring at me, and I'm pretty sure Gran would have choice words for me if I turned down what I'm positive she viewed as an invitation from an upstanding young man. Sighing, I stood up and followed him out of the front door. He wisely waited to say anything to me until the door was closed.

"Sookie-"

"Are you stalking me now or something?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I showed up at your house to talk to you," he returned. "That's hardly stalking. It's what people in polite society do."

"We have nothing to talk about," I said.

"Yes, we do." I gave him a look. "Okay, maybe you don't – although I could argue that point – but I do."

"I don't know what you could possibly have to say to me," I said, stepping past him and making my way down the front steps of the porch. He followed me, falling in step beside me as we headed toward the trail near the house.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry."

I snorted. "Yeah, for what? Seems to me you have a lot of things to be sorry for."

He shook his head. "I know you want me to apologize for being a part of The Firefly's destruction, but I can't do that. It's my job, Sookie. As much as it might not be what I want at times – and believe me, sometimes it's not what – it's my job. I won't apologize for that."

"Then what are you here for?"

"I didn't know that all that stuff about your parents was private," he said. "I figured because you told me that everyone else knew. I didn't realize that you were, I don't know, putting yourself out there by telling me."

"I shouldn't have told you," I held. I barely knew him, but at the time telling him had been completely natural. Now I wished I could go back and undo it all.

"I'm glad you did," he said. "I'm glad that I know the real reason why you're fighting so hard for that place. And it makes me feel even more like a complete jackass for what I said to you after."

"A complete jackass, huh?"

I glanced up at him and expected a sliver of a smile. Instead his face was drawn, bags under his eyes that I hadn't noticed before. Despite my general irritation with him I murmured, "Eric?"

"I told you that I encounter a lot of people like you on these projects," he said slowly. "People fighting what I'm doing. Everyone has their own story and usually I don't care. But, your story is different."

He was silent for a long moment, and I was about to ask him how I was different when he started up again.

"I lost my mother when I was fifteen. She had inoperable ovarian cancer, and I watched her waste away for months. She went from this strong and vibrant woman to someone that my dad was spoon-feeding chicken broth to at night. She was a librarian before, and after she died I went to the library where she worked almost every afternoon. It was difficult being home because there I could only see her as she was in those last few weeks. But at the library I saw and remembered her how she was before."

"I'm sorry," I said softly, feeling like a completely awful person for how I had treated him before. But I hadn't known all of this.

"So, I understand," he said, turning his gaze down to me. "I understand your attachment to the Firefly and why you want it to stay. And I honestly wish that I could change things. But I can't. I committed myself to doing a project, and unless I get different orders, the Firefly is coming down."

"Well, can't you just not do the project?" I asked gingerly.

Eric laughed, shaking his head. "You don't know a lot about this stuff, do you? I have all these stores and food vendors coordinated for the mall. Not to mention architects and designers. Besides, it's not my mind you need to change here, Sookie."

I looked up at him defiantly and said, "Well, then whose mind do I need to change?"

"It's not that easy."

"I know it's not," I returned stubbornly. "But it's also not impossible. So, whose mind do I need to change?"

Eric thought about it for a moment and said, "Well, I suppose it'd be your Mayor. He's the one who contracted all of this."

"The Mayor," I repeated, nodding. "Okay. I can handle the Mayor."

"Sookie, you do realize that I'm going to continue on with my orders," Eric said carefully. "Unless you convince the Mayor otherwise – which I have to tell you, the odds are pretty slim – the Firefly is coming down."

"I know."

"We start work in two weeks."

I swallowed hard. "Well, then I'm just going to have to work fast."

**A/N: Reviews for this chapter would make me even HAPPIER than the last reviews did.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your feedback on the fourth chapter! **

Chapter Five

The morning was always a relaxing time in my house, since I usually didn't work until lunch and Gran was long retired. We sat at the breakfast table, leisurely enjoying our breakfasts of scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. I'd added some cheddar cheese to the eggs this morning which gave them a little more pizazz than normal. The coffee and toast were regular, though. There's only room for so much experimentation in breakfast foods.

"That Eric's a nice gentleman," Gran said casually. Her eyes met mine as she took a sip of her coffee. She might have sounded casual, but I knew better. Gran was always hoping I would meet someone nice, and the looks she had been paying me and Eric last night clued me in that she thought I had finally met one.

"He is nice," I agreed. Two weeks ago I wouldn't have been caught dead saying that, but things had changed. I wasn't about to throw myself at him or anything, but I no longer wanted to dry heave if we were in the same room. I'd say that was progress.

"What did you two talk about?"

"He was apologizing, actually," I said, figuring I would tell Gran the truth. Maybe it would make her think twice about pushing us together. "He's the one coordinating all The Firefly stuff."

Gran looked at me strangely. "He apologized for that? But, dear, that's just his job."

"He didn't apologize for that exactly," I remedied. Gran looked at me expectantly. "I told him about my memories there. You know, the ones with Mom and Dad. He wasn't exactly sympathetic."

"You can't be serious."

"He came to apologize," I told her. "He said that he felt awful about how he had responded." I considered telling Gran about his mom, but decided not to. Just as I didn't tell everyone about my parents, I didn't know if everything about his mom was common knowledge. That wasn't my story to tell. "Anyway, that's about it."

"Him apologizing was awful nice," Gran said after a moment. Apparently the pushing together had not been halted. "There aren't many men out there who can truly recognize when they've acted terribly and then actually go and do something about it. Not many men like that at all."

I nodded in agreement and took a bite of my toast. Maybe if I was chewing she wouldn't push the subject. Wishful thinking.

"Do you see him often, dear?"

"Now and then," I answered. "He eats lunch at Merlotte's every day, so sometimes I see him then."

"Is he single?"

"Gran," I said in a wary voice. "It's not like that."

"Of course it's not," Gran said in a voice that belied just how much she thought it was. "But that is still a fair question, regardless of whether it 'is like that'."

I smirked at her delicate use of the phrase and told her, "I don't know if he's single. I've sort of assumed so."

"Why is that?" Gran asked with clear interest.

Because he flirted with me and stared at me constantly.

"No real reason," I lied, adding a shrug for good measure. "Just sort of get that feeling."

"Well, that is interesting. Very interesting indeed."

"Yep," I said. She was staring off into space, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that she was planning Eric and my wedding in her head. Standing up, I grabbed my plate and coffee mug and brought them over to the sink.

"I have to start getting ready for my meeting with Mayor Newman," I told her.

"Oh right, I forgot you had that today," she said. "Are you prepared?"

"As prepared as I can be," I said. "I just hope he's open to what I have to say."

Our fine mayor was known for being all ears, as long as it was what he wanted to hear. If what you said didn't gel with what he believed you could practically watch his eyes glaze over.

"I'm sure he will be, sweetie," Gran said. "Who couldn't listen to you?"

* * *

My meeting with Mayor Newman was at 1:00 and I arrive fifteen minutes early in my freshly pressed dress. I was going to wear a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt, but when Gran saw me she pulled out one of my church dresses and insisted that I wear it.

"Mayor Newman is an important man, Sookie," she had said. "And you have to look nice when you meet important people."

So, I was in my stiff Sunday dress with my hair wound in a conservative bun at the nape of my neck. That had also been Gran's doing. She thought loose hair was too casual for someone with Mayor Newman's stature. It was a wonder I left the house without instructions to bring him a bottle of wine or flowers. I kept fidgeting, and I could tell because Mayor Newman's secretary kept glancing at me. I couldn't help myself. I was nervous, and when my nerves were tipped off I fidgeted with the best of them. Finally someone came out and said something to her and she slid her eyes over to me.

"Ms. Stackhouse, Mayor Newman will see you now."

"Thank you," I said, standing up and shakily making my way into his office. I told myself inwardly to calm the hell down. I wouldn't do anyone any good if I was shaking like a leaf during the meeting.

"Sookie," Mayor Newman said by way of greeting, not even bothering to rise from his seat. I silently went back and forth between offering my hand for a handshake or not. Deciding that it made me seem more powerful, I stepped forward and extended my hand. I knew I did the right thing when he raised a bit from his chair and reached forward, grasping my hand tightly with his.

"Sookie, how are you?"

"Fine, sir, how are you?" I asked.

"Good, thank you. How's your grandmother?"

"Seems to be in the best health of her life," I said, smiling a bit. "Sometimes she has more energy than me."

"I tell you, that woman is going to outlive us all." There was a brief pause and he settled back into his seat. His face turned serious and small talk definitively came to an end. "So, Sookie, what can I do for you?"

"I'm here to talk to you about The Firefly."

He frowned. "I imagined as much. Go on."

"You can't tear it down," I said steadfastly. "It's a part of this town. It's a part of all of us."

"That's all fine and good," Mayor Newman returned. "But it's still coming down. No way around it, Sookie."

"I don't understand."

"This town is on the brink of bankruptcy," the mayor explained slowly. "If you saw the books, Sookie, they'd make your head hurt. We're losing money fast and not recouping it."

"So you're going to plop a bunch of money into a shopping mall?" I blurted. "That's the stupid thing I've ever heard."

Mayor Newman laughed humorlessly. "Yes, Sookie, it might seem that way to you. But I assure you, it is not a stupid thing at all. While the initial investment will admittedly be rather large, the return will more than make up for it."

"You expect all of this from a mall?"

Mayor Newman appraised me coolly. "Tell me, Sookie, what do you leave Bon Temps for?"

"Excuse me?"

"When you leave town," he elaborated. "What is it for?"

I considered it for a moment and said, "Well, there's a restaurant out in Shrevport that sometimes I meet Jason at. And, uh, the outlet malls in Riverside are pretty nice."

"Exactly," the mayor said, voice crisp. "You leave for shopping."

"Not always," I argued.

"But you do on occasion," Mayor Newman said. "We don't need people to come every day, but if enough people come on occasion we can make a substantial amount of money. And the studies have shown that we can get enough."

"So, it's about money," I said unhappily.

"Sookie, it's always about money."

I thought about that for a moment and slowly an idea came to me. "Mayor Newman, what if The Firefly could make you money?"

"It hasn't for the past seventy years," the mayor returned. "I doubt that's about to change."

"But what if it did? What if I could prove to you that The Firefly could be profitable? Would it change your mind?"

He didn't answer me immediately and I couldn't tell whether he was thinking it over or thinking how ridiculous I was for even suggesting such a thing. Finally he folded his hands on his desk and said, "I suppose if you could convince me it would make money – and I mean really convince me, Sookie – I would contemplate changing my mind."

"Well, sir, then you better start contemplating," I said, standing up. "Because I'm going to show you that theater can make money. Just you see."

* * *

Tara and I sat in my living room, just like before the town meeting, and we brainstormed different ideas for what we could do with the theater. We had to show Mayor Newman that there was worth beyond our old memories housed in its walls. We had to show it would make money.

"We could play movies from our childhoods," Tara suggested. "You know, cash in on nostalgia and all that shit. I bet you the town'd eat it up."

"But everyone's childhood is different," I said. "I mean, Gran and my childhood wouldn't have the same movies."

Tara frowned. "Play movies from a different decade each week?"

"We don't have that long," I said, pulling my feet under me on the couch. "We have two weeks."

It hit me again just how much responsibility I had taken on with a small time frame. Something like this would be difficult to pull off with months, and I had two weeks. But it would all be worth it if it worked. And I was determined to make it work.

Gran walked into the living room with two fresh-brewed iced teas in her hands. She placed them down on the table and said, "How is the brainstorming going girls?"

"We're at a bit of a loss," I admitted. I looked up at her and asked, "What do you think about when you think of The Firefly, Gran?"

"What do I think about?" she repeated, mouth screwed to the side as she thought. After a beat she laughed and said, "I suppose it makes me think about when movies were really movies. I know it makes me sound old, God forbid…" I smirked at that. "…but back when I was growing up movies were really something. They were grand and majestic. Going to the theater was truly a night on the town. It was an event."

"An event," I murmured, an idea brewing.

"I know that voice," Tara said, eyes shrewdly on me. "What are you thinking?"

"A classic movie theater," I said, still working through the idea in my head. "You know, one that only plays those movies you were talking about, Gran. They already do those old movie festivals every summer, so they must have some films. And then…" I trailed off, reaching the end of my train of thought. I was stuck, and frustrated that I had come this far and couldn't get further.

"You could have a grand opening," Gran suggested, sitting on the chair across from us. "Do it up like back in the studio era. You know who you should talk with, Sookie?"

"Who?"

"The Bon Temps Historical Society," Gran said. She didn't notice Tara's smirk beside her, but I did. "They would probably have good information on how premieres were conducted back then. Better than I would with just my memory."

"That's a good idea," I said. "I will look into that."

"Wonderful," Gran said, standing. "Well, you two continue on with your work. I'm going to start on dinner."

When she was back in the kitchen Tara said, "I'm sure the Bon Temps Historical Society would be _more _than happy to held put."

"Stop it," I said, giving her a look.

Bill Compton was the head of the Bon Temps Historical Society, and it was no secret that he had a thing for me. Tara claimed he had since high school, but I liked to think it was a more recent development. Made it all a bit more manageable for me. The idea of someone pining after me for all those years was enough to send me into a panic attack.

"You know, this couldn't be more perfect," Tara said. "That boy would do anything for you. He'd probably plan the entire event."

"He's not planning the entire event," I told her, voice leaving no room for discussion. "You know what, we don't even need him. We can do fine on our own." Tara laughed. "You're afraid to talk with him!"

She was right, but I didn't want her to know that.

"What? Don't be ridiculous."

"You're all afraid because you know that he likes you. Seriously Sookie, I don't get you. Most girls would be all excited for a guy to be into them the way Bill Compton is into you. But you? You run away like a deer in headlights."

"I do not run like a deer in headlights," I returned stubbornly. "I just…Bill's not my type."

"Why not?"

"He's too serious," I said. The guy never seemed to crack a smile. I saw it once, actually, one night at Merlotte's and I was so surprised that I ran into Arlene and an entire tray of drinks. "And he has weird sideburns."

"Okay, you're right about the sideburns," Tara relented. "But, you don't really know his personality because you haven't talked with him for more than two minutes."

"Two minutes was enough."

"Whatever," Tara said, smiling as she shook her head at me. "But we still should go and talk to him. He could be really useful for this."

"Okay," I relented. There was no reason arguing with her, because she was right. Bill would have a lot of knowledge about this type of stuff that we just didn't. "But you're coming with me for this one."

Tara smirked. "Don't worry, Sook. I'll make sure he's on his best behavior."

* * *

Bill was delighted to help. Tara and I went over to his office that afternoon and he seemed genuinely interested in our project. I found that that he, too, was unhappy with the way things were going with The Firefly and was happy to help in whatever way that he could. I felt happy with the meeting until we left and he requested to speak with me alone. I looked back to Tara for help, but she apparently had her own idea in mind as she quickly said, "I'll just be out in the car. You two take your time."

Traitor.

"I was happy you came to see me today," Bill said, words stilted. He had been perfectly congenial when Tara was in the room, but with just the two of us he stiffened.

"I think this event is going to be real great," I said, smiling brightly. Maybe I could keep the conversation strictly about the event. I'd definitely managed more difficult conversation steering.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "The event will be great. But, I actually wanted to speak with you about something else."

"Oh."

"I was wondering if you are free tonight for dinner."

"Tonight," I repeated, trying to think of some valid excuse. I knew there was one, possibly more, but at that moment I couldn't think of a single one. The longer I stalled the more I knew a sudden excuse would seem false. And although I wasn't rearing to jump Bill Compton's bones, he was a nice guy. I didn't want to be rude.

"If you already have plans-"

"Tonight is fine," I interrupted, figuring I might as well rip the bandaid off, so to speak. We'd have the one date. Emphasis on the one.

He smiled slightly and I could tell that he was straining not to smile wider.

"That is fantastic," he said. "What time should I pick you up?"

"Oh, you don't have to," I said immediately. "I can meet you wherever we're going."

He seemed surprised by this, but he didn't push the matter. "La Tratorria has exceptional Italian food."

"Well, then let's go there," I said, rocking back on my heels. I wanted to get this night planned so I could leave. "Seven o'clock work?"

"Um, yes, it does," he said, clearly uncomfortable at how I had somehow ended up setting the parameters for the date. Sure, it was usually the guy's role to set the time and all that, but I could more than manage it. "I will see you at seven o'clock."

"Alrighty," I said. "See you then."

I gave him a small wave and left as fast as I could. Tara was waiting for me in the car, and she started asking questions immediately.

"We're going on a date," I said calmly. "It's not a big deal. Just dinner-"

"Where?" she asked immediately, eager for information.

"La Trattoria."

"Well, look at him being all fancy. So, what are you wearing?"

"We are not doing this," I told her, pulling out of the parking lot. "Tonight is not a big deal. We will not be discussing outfits or hairstyles, you hear me?"

Tara visibly deflated beside me. "You take out all the fun, Sook."

* * *

I got to the restaurant right at seven and Bill was already there, standing next to the hostess with his hands stuffed in his pocket. He smiled when he saw me, walking my way with a surprisingly graceful gait. I noticed he had dressed up for the evening in slacks and a button-up. I was wearing one of the new dresses I'd bought at my last outlet mall run. It was a red dress with white polka-dots. The hemline hit above my knees and the neckline dipped just low enough to hint at cleavage. He took in my outfit with a quick dart of his eyes, and when they met mine again they were wide.

"You look beautiful, Sookie."

I blushed and said, "Thank you, Bill. You look very nice, too."

The hostess took us to our table and I was beginning to think that tonight might not be completely awful when I spotted Eric a few tables over from the one we were being seated at. He was sitting with the woman I had seen him with before at Merlotte's – Pam, I think – and both were matching in blue. He must have sensed my gaze because he looked up, and when he saw me offered a small wave. Since we were on good terms now, I returned the wave and then sat down. I could feel his gaze on my back.

"So, Sookie, how have you been?" Bill asked.

"Um, well, since this afternoon I've been good."

His cheeks colored and he said, "Right, of course. That was a stupid question."

"It's okay," I said, laughing slightly. "And how have you been since this afternoon?"

"Quite alright," he returned. "Would you like to order wine?"

"Sure." He picked up the list of wines and read through them with what looked like great care. After a moment he asked, "Do you have any preference?"

I shook my head. "I don't know enough to have one."

He grinned. "Alright, then. Do you at least have a preference between red and white?"

"White," I said decisively. The image of red wine staining my new dress was enough for me to be turned off.

"Alright, I can work with that."

The waiter came by and Bill began spouting off an elaborate set of questions about the wine list. It all seemed like a foreign language to me, and my attention wandered as they discussed the intricacies of the drink. I casually glanced over my shoulder at where Eric and Pam were sitting. They were in some intense debate, both of them leaning forward. I thought to myself that maybe I had been wrong about Eric being single. My eyes lingered on them for a moment. If they were a couple, they definitely were an attractive one.

"I think you'll like what I ordered," Bill said, pulling my attention back to him.

"Oh?"

"A vintage chardonnay from California," he said. I had no idea what any of that meant, but the tone of his voice told me I was supposed to be impressed. I nodded accordingly. A moment later the waiter returned with our wine. He poured it for us and Bill raised the glass slowly, giving the liquid a little swirl. I took a sip and had to hide my reaction to the acidic after-bite.

"Note the legs," Bill said, tilting the glass gently from side to side. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

"Uh, legs?"

"Yes, see how it hardly leaves any sort of residue as I do this?" He continued to tilt it side from side and I thought he looked ridiculous. What the hell was the point of doing that? "The residue is called legs. The less fine a wine is, the more pronounced the legs."

"Ah, right," I said, still not totally understanding why that was called legs. He lifted the glass to his nose and gave it a dainty sniff. I was beginning to remember why I didn't want to date him.

"Oaky smell," he murmured. I nodded along, trying to figure out if I was supposed to be impressed or not. Considering the show he was putting on, I figured I was. Finally, after what felt like forever, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.

"Delicious," he said. He didn't offer further commentary, to my enormous relief. We looked through the menu and when the waiter returned we gave him our orders. I went with chicken parmesan, and Bill went with a lamb shank – but not before quizzing the waiter on how it was prepared. This was going to be a long evening.

"Excuse me," I said after the waiter left. "I need to run to the bathroom."

"Of course. I'll be here."

Yes, unfortunately he would be. I pushed my chair back and stood up, quickly making my way over to the bathrooms. I spent as much time in the bathroom as polite society would allow, and then walked out. To my surprise, Eric was walking toward the men's bathroom.

"Hello Sookie," he sad, voice smooth. Up close, I noticed how well his shirt brought out his eyes.

"Hi Eric."

"I see you're on a date."

The tone of his voice made me bristle and I returned, "I don't see how that's any of your business, but yes, I am. I see you're on one, too."

Eric grinned. "Pam is just a business associate."

"Oh, well, okay."

"How did your meeting with the mayor go?"

"As good as it could," I told him. "He said if I could show that The Firefly could be profitable he would maybe change his mind about it being knocked down.  
Eric seemed surprised by that. "Really?"

"Granted, he said that would be near impossible. But, I always loved a good challenge."

He smirked. "Why does that not surprise me?"

I went to say something when someone came quickly out of the kitchen, skirting past Eric and I. Eric moved out of the way suddenly, but in the narrow hallway the only way to move was forward toward me. He pressed his hands against the wall on either side of my arms to keep from crashing into me. His face was close to mine, closer than it had ever been, and my breath hitched. The waiter was long gone from the hallway, but Eric didn't move. His breathing was ragged and his eyes darkened. My gaze went to his lips and I involuntarily moistened my own. His head moved forward, lips nearly brushing mine. In that moment, I wanted him to kiss me. It made no sense, but I could feel the desire all the way in the pit of my belly. Just as I was about to close the distance he stepped away, clearing his throat as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to…"

Almost kiss me? Invade my personal space? Make me want to jump his bones?

"It's fine," I stammered, my breathing beginning to go back to normal. I thought of how I had nearly kissed him and my cheeks burned. "I need to-"

"Yes, me too."

We both nodded and then turned in separate directions.

I went back to the table and Bill glanced up from his Blackberry with a grin. His grin faded rather quickly and I wondered how disheveled I looked.

"Are you alright?"  
"Yes," I said, sitting back down. "I'm fine."

But I wasn't. Eric had gone back to his table and I could sense him even with

the distance between us. I chanced a quick glance over my shoulder and his eyes met mine.

Oh no. This was not good. Very not good.

**A/N: Feedback would be swell!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your feedback on the fourth chapter! **

Chapter Six

It had been three days since Eric's and my almost kiss and he hadn't been at Merlotte's. That in itself was strange – he went there every day before – and I had to assume it was because of me. People typically tried to avoid people they almost kissed. At least I did. So, I didn't mind his absence, but it did make me mighty anxious. Every time the door opened at Merlotte's I'd get all tense.

He did show up, though, for dinner on that three-days-since-the-almost-kiss, and I literally knocked into him as I backed up from a table I had just taken orders from. When I rammed into him, the suddenness of it made me lose my balance, and he took a hold of my waist to steady me.

"Sorry," I stammered, stepping away from him clumsily. "I didn't see you there."

"That's fine. I-"

"Are you being seated already? Because-"

"Yeah, I'm just going to my usual." He pointed toward the empty table in the corner where he always sat. That was in Arlene's section tonight.

"Alright, good."

We both stood there for a moment, neither of us talking, and when I finally snapped out of it I gave him a sort of nod and then went over to the bar. Arlene had been watching the entire exchange and asked, "What's going on there?"

"Huh?"

"You and that Eric Northman."

"Nothing," I said quickly. Too quickly.

"Sookie Stackhouse, you tell me right now what is going on," Arlene said. While we weren't especially close, she did like to be kept up on all the going-on's at Merlotte's and would be actively offended if she was left out. Since the interaction she witnessed happened within Merlotte's four walls, she appeared to believe it fell into the work-place-going-on's category. Meaning I'd better get talking.

"It's complicated," I said, sighing as I stuffed my notepad into my pocket. "Can I just tell you later?"

"No," she said simply. "You can tell me now. Besides, I gotta wait on him. I need to know what I'm dealing with."

His going ons with me had absolutely nothing to do with her waiting on him, but she had made the connection in her head and I couldn't do anything to change her mind.

"We almost kissed."

"Sookie!" she said loudly, drawing a few nearby patron's attention.

"Not so loud," I hissed. "You want the entire county to hear you?"

"Sorry," she said, voice noticeably softer. "You almost kissed?"

I nodded, fighting the urge to glance at his table. That wouldn't do anyone any good.

"It was on my date with Bill Compton."

"You went on a date with Bill Compton?" she said in surprise. "Why am I so out of the loop with all of this?"

"Sorry," I said sincerely. I was honestly going to tell her, but hadn't gotten around to it. "I was going to tell you. Honest."

"Alright," she said. "I'm expecting stories on that later. But right now let's hear about this kiss."

"Almost kiss," I corrected. "Anyway, I ran into him outside of the bathrooms. We were just chatting – totally casual – and then someone came out of the kitchen in a rush. Eric moved forward to avoid getting knocked over, and he ended up almost pressed against me."

Just the memory of it all was giving me very non-Christian feelings.

"Sookie, you're blushing."

"I'm not used to having men that close," I said by way of excuse. "And he was close. Really close. And he just sort of stayed there."

"What about the kiss?"

"It was almost going to happen," I said, conveniently leaving out my role in it all. "And then he stepped away real quick. Said he was sorry, and then it was over."

"This is just like a soap opera," Arlene said, eyes bright. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"Nothing," I said. I had decided that night that I wasn't going to pursue anything. My feelings were a whole jumbled mess. I didn't even know how he felt.

"Why not?" Arlene pressed. "He's a catch, Sookie. I mean, he has his own business. He's _very _attractive. Your children would be beautiful."

I winced. "Please don't picture our children."

"With your bone structure and his eyes…"

Oh great, now even I was picturing it.

"I think my tables need their drinks refreshed," I said quickly, stepping away. I checked on my tables and got refills or second drinks for any that asked. When I got back to the bar, Arlene had just returned from Eric's table.

"He did not mention you," she said, although I hadn't asked.

"Okay."

"Have you guys talked since the almost-kiss?" She lowered her voice for that last part, and while the added tact really wasn't necessary I appreciated it anyway.

"No," I said.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

To be honest, I hadn't thought about it much. My mind had been more pre-occupied by what had happened than by what wasn't happening now. But when I thought about it, our not talking did bother me. Something had almost happened. That deserved at least a brief conversation.

"You should set up a time to talk," Arlene said, reading correctly into my silence. "You take control. It's the best way to deal with this, Sookie."

I nodded, already dreading it all. But she was right. The best way to deal with it was head on. We'd talk about it and then hopefully we could put it past us and resume whatever sort of strange relationship we had before. Before I lost my nerve I went over to his table.

"Sookie," he said, gazing up at me. "Hi."

"I'd like to talk to you," I said. I realized my manner of going about this was a bit bracing, but my mind was too muddled to handle it more tactfully. "Can we meet during my break?"

"Sure," he said slowly. "When is your next break?"

"Five o'clock."

"Alright, meet here?"  
I nodded. This was going well. We were setting up a time and I didn't feel an overwhelming urge to climb over the table and onto his lap.

"I'll see you then," I said succinctly, turning on my heel and heading back to the bar.

I busied myself the rest of the afternoon with my tables and general upkeep work. There was always something for a waitress to do, and I took full advantage of the distraction. Before I knew it five o'clock had rolled around. He was on time, and I gave him credit for that. He sat at his usual table, the outfit from earlier the same save for an added leather jacket. I sat across from him and wondered in a panicked moment how the hell I was going to have this conversation.

"So…" I began, searching for words – any words – that could start us off.

"So…" he returned.

Unable to think of any nice way to start us off, I took the bull by the horn and told him, "We almost kissed on Saturday and we need to talk about that."

He looked taken aback at my forwardness, and I couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

"Yes," he said. "We did almost kiss."

"And?"

He paused for a moment. "It should have never happened."

His words hurt, and I couldn't understand why. I don't know what I expected. It's not like he was going to offer some proclamation of love.

"Yes," I said, voice a bit louder than necessary. I nodded my head up and down. "I agree. Completely. It should not have happened."

"I don't know what happened," he continued. "I wasn't thinking straight. Lapse in sanity, I guess."

Well, just twist the knife in there, buddy.

"Thank goodness your sanity has been restored," I said, voice icier than I intended. But what he said pissed me off. Would kissing me have really been that bad? I'm not unattractive. I've gotten lots of passes at Merlotte's – even on days where I don't spend time on my hair and make-up. Who was he to go on saying that kissing me would have been crazy?

"You agree it would have been a mistake, right?" he asked.

You bet I did.

"Biggest mistake of my life," I said, pressing my palms on the table and standing up. "Well, thanks Eric. This was a good talk. Very enlightening."

He peered up at me, confused. "Are you mad at me or something?"

"Nope."

"You sure? You look pretty mad."

"I had a long day, Eric," I said, voice tight. "Not everything is about you. I need to get back to work."

He was still looking at me confused and I left him that way, not bothering to glance back.

* * *

"I wanted to slap him," I said, relaying the Eric story to Tara. "And if we weren't in a crowded bar, I probably would have."

"He thinks kissing you would be crazy?" Tara said, snorting. "He's the crazy one. Does he know how many Merlotte's guys you've turned down?"

"It just made me so mad," I said. "Anyway, I'm glad it didn't happen."

"Better off," Tara said. "You don't need him." She was silent for a moment and then she gingelry asked, "You hear from Bill Compton at all?"

I frowned. I had, in fact, heard from Bill Compton. I heard from him a lot. Not only did he call me this morning, but he sent me several texts reiterating what a nice time he had.

"I don't know how to turn him down nicely," I complained. "He's just so…persistent. And not in a good way."

"It was that bad?"

"I ended up almost making out with Eric in a hallway," I deadpanned.

"Alright. Enough said."

"I'll figure it out," I sighed. "Somehow."

"You will," she agreed. "Alright, enough about your men." That drew an eye roll. "We have work to do."

"Yes we do," I said, nodding my head. Enough about Eric and Bill. We had real business to worry about. "Who'd you talk to this week?"

"I went over to Loobie's, and they didn't want to donate any food. But, after they heard that I was talking to Mickey's, they suddenly started showing interest. I talked with them and convinced them to donate appetizers."

"That's great!" I said. "What else?"

"I talked to Ms. Retta," Tara said. Ms. Retta was our local dance teacher and she oftentimes loaned her girls out for things. She believed a performance was a performance, no matter what the circumstances. "She said the girls would be happy to work the event. We'd need ones over twenty-one to serve liquor, but-"

"I'm sure we can root up a few."

"And she also said she'd loan us costumes. She has some 1950s cigarette girl costumes from one of her shows."

"That was easier than I thought it would be."

Tara grinned. "I told you the town would show up and help."

"You were right," I said, glancing down at the notepad on my lap. It had listed all of the people I had to talk to and loose ends I had to address. Even with these few issues settled, I still had over a page of notes left.

"Alright, so now we need to figure out media. I went over to the local station today and they agreed to cover it. I think we should try to go further, though."

"Shrevport news outlets?" Tara suggested. "They have a pretty big viewership."

I nodded, although I didn't think that would be enough. If we really wanted to make waves, we had to go bigger than Shrevport. But I hadn't exactly figured out how to do that yet.

"This is a good start," I said decisively. We still had time until the event, and it was already getting considerate buzz. The local Piggly Wiggly put advertisements in their windows, and they only advertise the good stuff.

"We should do something tonight," Tara said after a moment. "We've been working so hard, Sookie. And when you really look at it, we've achieved a lot."

I smirked. "You don't need to convince me to go out, Tara. That actually sounds nice."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes, really. You make it sound like I never go out."

"You've just been a bit of a hermit lately."

She was right. Ever since I heard about The Firefly I'd been in a funk. The prospect of losing the last real place that represented your parents wasn't really party fodder. A night out sounded good, though. I could use some airing out and there was a new bar right outside of town that I had wanted to go to.

"A night out sounds like exactly what we both need," I told her. "Besides, it'll give me a reason to wear that ridiculously short dress we bought at the outlet mall last time."

Tara grinned wide. "Sookie, I like the way you're thinking. Want to meet me at my place at nine and we can head over together?"

I nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

I thought my dress was short, and then I showed up at Tara's and she practically walked out in a bathing suit. She noticed me ogling her skirt and she said, "Come on, Sook. Say it."

"Aren't you afraid you're going to, you know, flash something?" I asked gingerly. If I was wearing that skirt I'd stay standing all night. Who knew what happened when you sat down.

She grinned. "That's half the fun."

"Really?"

She laughed. "Don't worry, everything is nice and secured down there. Your dress looks good."

"Thanks. It's more, uh, form-fitting than I remember it being in the dressing room."

It was a one-strap dress made out of stretchy golden-brown material. It clung to my body and ended mid-thigh. I'd considered wearing flats with it, but at the last minute threw on a pair of strappy heels. I was worried that it ended up looking a bit more streetwalker than sexy, but Tara assured me that it was perfect for the bar.

"You look hot," Tara told me. "I might have some competition tonight."

I laughed. "Don't worry. I'm not intending on doing any competing tonight. I just want to have fun. Nothing more."

"That's what you're saying now," she said, following me to my car. "But I know you. One look from a cute guy and you'll be using all your tricks. Or should I say my tricks? I taught you all of them."

We drove to the bar and I felt all ritzy when I let the valet park my car. The bar was crowded, but it didn't smell like beer or vomit like most of the bars in Bon Temps, so I was happy. We pushed our way to the bar and positioned ourselves to get drinks. Tara was served first so she ordered my gin martini. It didn't take long for some guy to approach Tara, and after a few minutes he invited both of us back to his table. There were three other guys there and they looked us over appreciatively as we approached.

"Guys, this is Tara and her friend Sookie," the guy from the bar said, introducing us to his friends. I hadn't caught his name before, and almost laughed when one of the guys said, "Godric, you always do find the most beautiful women."

Who names their kid Godric?

"Are you guys from around here?" Tara asked, glancing around the table. They shook their heads and all said they were from Shrevport.

"How about you?" Godric asked.

"We're from Bon Temps," Tara said. "Out of towners."

"Well, you surely fit in," Godric said, gaze trailing down Tara's tight-fitting dress and loosely crossed legs. He was broadcasting clearly that he was hoping to get in between those legs. I knew Tara was well-aware of this, and I could tell by the squaring of her shoulders that she was going to have fun with this one. I glanced down at my drink and noticed that there weren't any olives in it.

"I'm going to get some olives from the bar," I told the table, rising and heading over to the bar. It was even more crowded than before and I angled my body to push to the front. The bartender was busy, going from one customer to another. I easily recognized the pattern he was using and knew it would be a few minutes before he got over to me.

"You're new here," a guy beside me said, angling his body toward me. He looked a few years older than me and when he smiled he flashed perfectly straight white teeth. Some orthodontist made good money off of him, or he had impeccable genes.

"You're right," I said. "It's my first time. I'm Sookie."

"I'm Alcide."

I smiled softly, offering him my hand. When he took it I was surprised by the warmth of his hand.

"So, Alcide, you come here often?"

"Often enough since it's opened," he said. "My friends are part shareowners, so we end up here a lot."

"I can imagine."

He glanced at my drink. "You look like you have a drink already. What are you doing up at the bar?"  
"My gin martini is olive-less," I explained, tipping the drink toward him so that he could see. It was largely unnecessary as he was more than a head taller than me and could obviously see into my drink, but it felt appropriate.

"As friend of a part shareowner, that is unacceptable," he announced. Before I could stop him he leaned forward and literally grabbed the bartender as he passed. I was going to say something when I realized that him and the bartender knew each other.

"Alcide, what the hell man?"

"This lady needs some olives for her martini." Alcide explained smoothly. He took my drink and held it out to the bartender, who dutifully – although unhappily – dropped a skewer of green olives into my drink.

"Here you go," Alcide said happily, handing me my drink.

"You didn't have to do that," I said. I felt my cheeks flush.

"It's no problem," he assured me. "So, what do you do?"

"I'm a waitress over at a bar in Bon Temps. Merlottes. Have you heard of it?"

He nodded. "Never been there myself, but I've heard good things."

"How about you?" I asked.

"I run a construction company here in Shrevport," he said.

"Really? That's-"

I was cut off by Eric's sudden arrival. His arm went around my shoulders, and I looked up at him in alarm as he said, "Sookie, fancy meeting you here."

"Eric, what-"

"A martini," he said, dropping his arm as he stared down at my drink. I could smell alcohol on his breath. "I would not have pegged you as a martini girl."

I sputtered with words for a few moments, his suddenly being there and bombing a very nice conversation with another man rattling me. The two men were silent and when I glanced at Alcide I saw that he was no longer looking at me but at Eric. I grudgingly looked up at Eric, and the look on his face was enough to make me want to stomp on his foot. Just when I was about to intervene, Alcide turned his gaze to me again and said, "Sookie, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I'll run into you again."

To his retreating form I said, "Yeah, sure."

"First the bad sideburns and now shaggy over there?" he said. "You must have a thing for guys with bad hair."

I turned toward him with a heated gaze. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He actually looked surprised at my outburst. "You chased him away!"

"If he was that easily chased, Sookie, it's a good thing he was, "Eric said reasonably. I was in no mood for reason.

"We were having a perfectly nice conversation," I said irritably. "He was nice and sweet."

"And in dire need of a haircut," Eric interjected sarcastically.

"What is with you and hair?" I all about shrieked.

"Look, I did you a favor. You belong with someone twice the man than he is.

I stared up at him, mouth agape. This was not happening. Eric was not screening my men. He was not picking and choosing who I could talk to or interjecting himself.

"You can't do this," I said, clutching my drink tightly. "Do you hear me, Eric? You _can't _do this."

"Do what?"

"This!" I said irritably. "You can't almost kiss me, say it was a _moment of insanity_, and then get weird when I'm with other guys."

"I-"

"No, you don't get to talk," I said. "I'm talking right now. You're listening." I paused for a moment to catch my breath and he had the good sense to keep quiet. "You can't have it both ways. You can't say that it was a mistake and then come here and act like this."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, tone mirroring mine now. "Do you want me to tell you it wasn't a mistake? That it wasn't a moment of insanity, but instead the first moment of clarity I've had since I came to this fucking town?"

I stared at him, once again at a loss of words. For someone who used to rile me to pontification, he had a recent habit of making me silent.

"Is that what you want?" he repeated, voice harsh. I couldn't answer him. I didn't know what I wanted. Part of me wanted to explore whatever had recently developed there with him. And there was something, I couldn't deny that. But the other part of me – the substantially more grounded and reasonable part – said otherwise.

"I just want to know the truth," I said, voice so soft that I doubted he heard me. But then I saw the change in his eyes.

"The truth? You want to know the truth?"

Before I could respond he slid his hand behind my neck and pulled my mouth to his. The kiss was far from gentle, the frustrations that lied between us worked out by tongue and teeth. His arm wound around my waist and he crushed me against him. I knew we were drawing attention, but I couldn't seem to care. His mouth was working so deftly against mine, and his hand pressed against my waist. I wanted him. I wanted all of him. The kiss ended abruptly. One moment his mouth was against mine and then it wasn't. My eyes had drifted shut and they opened blearily. I was thankful for the sturdy bar next to me, as my knees felt too wobbly to support my weight.

Eric's gaze was on my face, and I didn't know if he was gauging my reaction or actually waiting for one. As I had no idea what my face actually looked like, I had no answer to this. As oxygen filled my lungs again, my senses returned. Eric Northman just kissed me. He grabbed me and kissed me in the middle of a crowded bar without so much as a please or thank you.

And boy, was I pissed.

I slapped him hard across the face, the loud smack drawing even more people than our previous mouth-to-mouth activity. He staggered back, knocking into the guy behind him.

"What was that for?" he asked unhappily, rubbing his cheek.

"You can't just go around kissing people!" I hissed. "Especially people who are already confused as hell about where they stand with you!"

"I-"

"No," I said loudly. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything you have to say, because God knows it'll just make me even more confused than I already am. So please, for both of our sakes, just leave me alone right now."

"Is that what you want?" he asked, voice hard.

"Yes," I said, voice sounding more sure than I actually was. "That's what I want."

"Okay then," he said. He glanced to the side, jaw tightening. "Goodbye, Sookie."

I watched him walk away just long enough for it to be too long. I would have followed him with my gaze his entire way out of the bar if Alcide hadn't resumed his spot beside me.

"I feel like I need to buy you a shot," he said. I glanced over at him and asked, "How much of that did you see?"

"Enough to know there was a reason for the slap," he said. "Boyfriend or something?" I shook my head and he smiled slightly. "Good."

I didn't know what to take of that. Well, okay, I _did _but I didn't know how I felt about any of it.

"You know, I gotta say, that did look like one hell of a kiss."

"For someone I just met, you're getting real personal here, Alcide."

He laughed. "Sorry, I'm not trying to step on your toes. Just making sure he's all out of your system."

I stared at him. "Out of my system?"

He grinned again. He did that a lot. "It's never a good idea to ask out a girl who's hung up on someone else."

Huh.

"Oh, Alcide…"

"Oh man, I know that tone," he said, smile faltering.

"You seem really sweet," I said. "But I'm in no state to date someone right now. I got a big project back in Bon Temps and dating has never really been my strong suit." I realized I was rambling and stopped myself before I went on any further. "I'm sorry."

"Was worth a try," he said with a shrug. On an impulse I laid my hands on his shoulders and raised on my tip-toes to place a light kiss on his cheek.

"It was really nice meeting you, Alcide."

He smiled sadly. "You too, Sookie."

I walked back over to Tara, dead set on going home. I'd had enough excitement for one night. When I neared the table I saw Tara and Godric were having some excitement of their own. I gingerly walked forward, hoping to catch Tara's attention. Thankfully she took that moment to get some air and she saw me standing there. She flicked her hand a few times, signaling to me that she'd find her own way home – probably from this Godric guy's place in the morning. I gave her my best "be careful" look and then headed out.

**A/N: Reviews would be great!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you for your feedback! This chapter is a bit of a transitional one, so not a ton happens. But, it sets the stage for the next few chapters. Hope you enjoy.**

Chapter Seven

I never expected to see Pam in Merlotte's of her own accord. She hadn't been too fond of that first meal with Eric, and she'd never returned. Here she was, though, perched at end of the bar with a glass of red wine. It wasn't often people at Merlotte's ordered wine, and I'm pretty sure we had the bottle her glass came from for at least two years.

"Sookie," she said by way of greeting when I came and placed a small bowl of beer nuts next to her. Sure, they weren't exactly wine-fare, but our beer nuts were damn good.

"Hello Pam. How are you?"

"Good," she said, taking a sip of her wine. "I heard you slapped Eric."

I gaped at her. Well, that would explain her showing up at Merlotte's.

"You did?"

"They said a mouthy blonde slapped him. I figured it was you."

I straightened up. "You figured right. He deserved it."

Pam frowned and I wondered for a minute if I offended her. "I'm actually here to talk to you about that. As much as it pains me."

"What does?"

"Usually watching Eric self-destruct is rather amusing," Pam said dryly. "But lately it's been more along the lines of pathetic."

"Pam, I don't know what you're talking about."

"No," Pam said slowly. "You wouldn't."

I knew an explanation was coming. I didn't want an explanation. I didn't want anything right now because the crowd at Merlotte's hadn't been easy today, and what I really wanted to do was go in the back room and put my feet up, but I could tell from the set of Pam's shoulders that I was getting this explanation whether I wanted it or not.

"Well, Pam, please enlighten me," I said unhappily.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you are nothing new for him. Eric has at least one of you with every project he does."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I've heard all this from him. He has people protesting against his projects all the time. Yada yada."

"No," Pam said coldly. "I mean he has women he sleeps with."

"Whoah, back up partner," I said immediately, raising my hands in front of me. "We haven't slept together."

"Whatever," Pam said dismissively. "The point is that there's nothing exceptional about you."

"Could you be any more offensive?" I breathed out.

"But you're different somehow. He's thinking of pulling out of the project, you know."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"And Eric Northman never pulls out."

At any other time that statement would have sent me into a fit of giggles, but I was too surprised by what she told me to even crack a smile. Pam took another sip of her wine, seemingly giving that statement a moment to sink in.

"He's typically pretty aloof with his dealings with women," Pam explained succinctly. "But with you, it seems he's caught feelings or something."

The tone of her voice revealed her distaste at the thought. I couldn't say I was exactly thrilled, either. Things were a lot easier when he was just the annoying guy knocking down The Firefly. This new person he had become – whoever he was – proved to be more trouble than I wanted.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because he's not used to this," she explained, some warmth creeping into her voice. "Eric doesn't handle feelings well, Sookie. He doesn't know how to handle them."

"He's a grown man."

Pam's lips curved into a smirk. "You'd be surprised how many grown men are like that, Sookie."

"What do you want me to do?"

It was clear she wanted something, and I was damn sure going to find out what it was.

"Give him a chance," she said simply. "Realize he's trying, even when he's doing extremely idiotic things. Which, unfortunately, he will likely do."

"And why should I?"

Pam set her cool gaze on me and returned, "Because you want to."

She let that set in as she set her hands on the bar and rose from the stool. She placed her clutch under her arm and said, "Well, Sookie, it was nice seeing you."

Her words rang false. The one thing about Pam is that she didn't try any more than she had to in acting pleasant. I returned with just as much sincerity, "You too, Pam. Goodbye now."

* * *

I kept myself busy during the day with waiting tables and refilling the napkin holders and salt shakers. You wouldn't believe how many napkins and salt shakers we go through in a day. We've got lots of messy people with high blood pressure in Bon Temps. Our sheriff Bud Dearborn walked in and sat down in my section. I knew his beer preference and filled a stein for him. When I brought it over he smiled gratefully and said, "Thank you, Sookie."  
"You've very welcome."

"I heard about that gala you're planning over at The Firefly," Bud said, glancing up at me.

"I don't know if I'd call it a gala…"

"Whatever you're calling it," Bud began. "The department would be more than happy to handle all your security needs."

"Oh, I don't think I'll be needing security," I said. Bon Temps didn't exactly have a high crime rate. The most the sheriff's department had to deal with most days were parking violations. I doubted the Firefly event would change that.

"Sookie, you're working a protest," Bud Dearborn said, voice serious. "There are a mighty lot of people who aren't going to be happy about that."

I swallowed unhappily. "It's just a little protest."

"Not from what I've heard. This gala you're setting up is a big deal Sookie. I heard you got all the major news stations in town covering it."

That was true. Tara had worked her PR magic – she was pretty good at getting people to do stuff – and she'd gotten all the big newspapers to send reporters to the event. Even the most-viewed morning talk show "Hey There, Bon Temps!" was sending someone to cover the event.

"Well, Sheriff, I definitely won't turn down free security," I said, smiling brightly. "We'd be happy to have you."

He nodded, satisfied that I'd accepted his offer of help. I pulled the pad of paper from my shorts's pocket and said, "What can I get you, Sheriff?"

"Burger, please. Extra pickles and mayonnaise."

"Coming right up."

I walked back to the kitchen and ripped the order off the pad, passing it over to our cook Lafayette. He glanced at it and said, "Let me guess, Bud Dearborn's order?"

"You guessed it."

Lafayette clicked his tongue. "All that mayonnaise is going to give him a heart attack."

"You try telling him that."

Lafayette laughed. "Yeah, no thank you, hun."

I walked back out to the bar and scanned my section. I saw that Eric had taken his usual seat. He hadn't been in for a few days after the kiss, and I was surprised to see him. I thought about what Pam had told me.

"Hey Arlene," I said, eyes still on Eric. She was a few feet down from me filling salt shakers, and she said, "Yeah, Sook?"

"Could you cover my tables for about five minutes?"

"Sure? Everything okay?"

"I just need to, um, deal with something."

I knew I was being vague, and the look on her face told me she expected for explanation.

"I'll tell you everything later," I told her. "I promise. Just, right now-"

"Fine. Go do whatever you need to."

"I swear it won't be more than five minutes."

She nodded, telling me she'd cover my tables, and I walked over to Eric. He didn't see me approaching and looked up in surprise when I slipped into the seat in front of him.

"Am I about to get yelled at?" he asked, voice dry.

"What?"

"Usually when you show up like this I get yelled at. I just want to know what to expect from this little visit."

"No," I said slowly. "I am not going to yell at you."

"Well. That's a twist."

He was staring at me with those piercing blue eyes on his, and I almost lost my nerve right then. He looked sort of defiant – which he really had no right to be after kissing me – but then I remembered that I had also gone and slapped him which would give him a pretty good reason to show any sort of face at me. I tore my gaze from his and stared at the empty plate in front of him as I murmured, "I'm sorry I slapped you."

"I don't believe you."

My gaze went to his in surprise. "You don't _believe _me?"

"You meant that slap."

I glared at him. "Yeah. I did mean that slap." I started to rise from my seat as I added, "But I was trying to be nice and apologize, because that's the person I am, but if you're going to be a jerk-"

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching forward and tugging my arm to get me to sit back down. I did so grudgingly, thinking that I should just stop trying to do anything with Eric Northman. It always ended up with me upset.

"Would you pipe down?" he said, smiling slightly. "I was going to say you meant that slap because I deserved it."

"You were?"

"I was drunk," he said. "I acted like an ass, and I'm not proud of that. But, I saw you with that guy, and something just sort of snapped. It wasn't right, though. I shouldn't have scared him off, and I certainly shouldn't have kissed you like that."

"If it makes you feel any better, he came back after you left."

Eric grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Glad to hear it. So, you guys going out soon I'm guessing?"

I shook my head. "He asked but I turned him down. I have too much going on right now to worry about men."

He seemed to brighten at that. "I'd imagine you do."

"Well, I have to get back to work. I told Arlene I'd be quick."

He nodded. "Sure. Well, uh, thanks for stopping by."

"Yeah sure."

As I rose from my seat he suddenly asked, "Hey, Sookie?"

"Yeah?"

He paused. "Are we okay?"

Well, that was a complicated question. I didn't even know if there was "we". Was there one? We always seemed to be at odds with each other. We spent more time fighting together than having actual conversations. But things had been different the past few weeks. We'd gotten along, or something close to that.

"Yeah," I said. "We're okay."

"Good."

"But, uh, we should probably keep our mouths and hands to ourselves," I added as an afterthought.

He laughed. "Yeah. That's probably for the best."

"Anyway, you're in my section," I said, pulling my notepad from my pocket. "How about I get your order?"

"I'll have my usual," he said, not even bothering to open a menu. I planted a hand on my hip and asked, "You just expect me to know your order?"

"I come here every day and order the same thing," he pointed out, as if that meant his order would be tattooed on my brain. I mean, sure, I _did _know his order but I didn't like him just assuming that.

"Your order, Eric," I spelled out in no uncertain terms. "I don't have all day."

He grinned, clearly relieved to be back at our barbed banter. "Burger with mustard, ketchup and pickles. Fries on the side."

I brought his order over to Lafayette and added the grilled onions that he forgot to mention. It wasn't until I brought him his burger and he peeked under the bun, grinning like a chesire cat, that I realized what he'd done.

**A/N: Please leave feedback!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Y'all are going to love this chapter. No joke. Enjoy!**

Chapter Eight

I knew it was only a matter of time before I heard about Eric Northman and some Bon Temps lady getting to know each other in the biblical sense. He was a hot-blooded man, and as he wasn't getting his needs catered to by yours truly, I really had no reason to be bothered by the news of someone else catering to them. Still, my blood practically boiled when I heard our on-again-off-again waitress Dawn Greene going on about their night together.

There were many things I didn't like about Dawn, least of all her fake blonde hair that always seemed to be showing some root. She was a floater at Merlotte's, picking up shifts here and there but never picking up enough to make any of us endear to her. It ticked me off because Sam always struggled when she decided to take weeks off. And when Sam struggled, the rest of the waitresses ended up picking up the slack. As some who was responsible to a "t" with my job, Dawn's blatant refusal to take up _any _responsibility irked me. Plus she was a raging bitch.

"If you think he looks good with clothes on," Dawn said lasciviously, holding her audience's attention in the palm of her hand. I was unhappy to see that Arlene was one of them. "Well, you should just see him with them off. Oh my word, is he a sight for sore eyes."

"When are you seeing him again?"

Dawn shrugged, all coy and full of bol shit. "I'll see him when I see him. It's very casual, you know."

Casual, my ass. He probably took her for one go and gave up on women all together.

"You're so lucky to have snagged him," one of Dawn's sycophantic listeners said, voice light and dreamy. "I mean, he's smart and handsome. And he has his own company. Talk about jackpot!"

"Total jackpot!" Another one trilled.

"Girls, let's not get ahead of ourselves now," Dawn said, all fake modesty. It was a credit to my willpower that I didn't chuck a plate at her. "It was only one night." She paused dramatically. "One very, very long night."

I could practically hear the wink in her voice.

"You okay?" Sam asked as I passed him. I turned back and said, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Just all the stuff Dawn is going on about," Sam said. "I don't know. I thought I had picked up on something between you and that Eric guy before. But maybe I was wrong."

"There's nothing between us," I said. "But that still doesn't make his scraping the bottom of the barrel like that any less nauseating."

Sam laughed. "You might want to lower you voice a little Sookie when you say stuff like that."

"Gran would slap me upside the head for saying this, but Dawn Greene deserves to hear exactly what she is."

Dawn overheard that last part and sauntered over, hips swaying in a way that was more fabricated than natural. I knew she thought it drew the attraction of the men in the bar. Instead, it only made her look like she was stumbling with each step.

"Sook, I heard my name?" she asked, fake grin plastered on her face. I had to admit she had a good one. It almost looked genuine.

"Just saying how lucky we are to have you back," I said, lying straight through my teeth. I was a lot of talk, but I wasn't about to go insult the girl to her face. She was a head taller than me and could probably take me in a fight.

Dawn was about to speak when she caught sight of someone over my shoulder. Her eyes brightened and she said, "Excuse me, Sookie. I have work to do."

I turned around and watched her approach Eric, the ridiculous hip sway making another appearance. She sat him down in my section and then proceeded to take his order.

"Sookie, isn't that your section?" Sam asked, crossing his arms over my chest. I pursed my lips into a frown and returned, "Yep."

Sam glanced at me. "Is this guy going to cause problems with my staff?"  
"Not at all," I assured him. "Not interested over here, remember? She can sashay all she wants. I don't give a crap."

I filled another beer for our regular Hoyt and spotted Dawn leaning forward at Eric's table with her hand on his shoulder. I slammed the beer down on the table.

"Hey!" Hoyt said in surprise. I glanced down at the table and saw that beer had sloshed over the sides of the glass onto the table.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Hoyt." I pulled a wad of napkins from the napkin holder and cleaned up my mess.

"What's going on with you?"

"I don't know, Hoyt." I glanced over at Eric's table. "I really don't know."

* * *

I did a remarkable job of keeping myself from asking Eric about Dawn until I ran into him in the grocery store. We were both in the produce section, taking advantage of Bon Temp's unusually good summer crop. Well, he didn't know it was unusual, but I sure did. It'd been years since I had an honest to good ripe peach.

"Why are there so many people here?" Eric said, glancing around at the hoards of people. The grocery store was particularly crowded, but it was nine o'clock on a Saturday. What else did he expect?

"People need food, Eric," I spelled out. "It's how they survive."

"Really Sookie? I had no idea human beings need food to survive. Thank you for enlightening me on that subject."

I grinned. We both reached for the same peach and a jolt shot through me as our hands touched. I pulled back and said, "You take it."

"No, you take it."

"Eric-"

He interrupted me smoothly with, "You were going on for about ten minutes before about how good the peach crop is this summer. There was an alarming amount of peach talk. Take the damn peach."

I hesitated before reaching forward and plucking the peach from the others, dropping it in a bag along with a few other similarly ripe ones. We were silent, Eric bagging up his peaches as I knotted my bag and threw it in my basket. I was thinking about Dawn and the new story she had spun that morning. Apparently he had taken her for a drive in his red corvette over the weekend.

"And we tested out all the stick shift positions," Dawn had cooed. "If you know what I mean."

There was no reason for her to add that last part. Literally everyone knew what she meant.

"So, I heard you've been seeing Dawn Greene," I said casually.

Eric grinned down at me. "Yeah. Jealous?"

"Nope." I popped the "p" for good measure. "Just hope that one got her shots before you two started up. She's slept with half the town – and that's not an exaggeration."

"Half the town? That's a well-seasoned townie. I chose well."

"You're disgusting," I said, shaking my head. "You know, you could have picked someone else less revolting. Anyone else, actually."

He laughed, gazing down at me. "I'm definitely detecting some jealousy here."

"What? No. There is no jealousy." He was still gazing down at me with that maddening smirk. "Stop looking at me."

"You are jealous!"  
"I am the furthest thing from jealous. Pull out a map, and I'll show you just how far from jealous I am."

He peered at my face. "No, definitely jealous. You're doing that thing where you're all frown-ey and the little crease forms between your eyes."

He'd known me for a matter of weeks and already had my jealous face down pat. Well, damn.

"Eric," I said, voice strained. I could tell he was still amused, but he had the good sense to no longer smile. "I would like to shop alone now, please."

"Are you dismissing me?" The smile returned.

"Yes," I sighed. "I am dismissing you because you are pissing me off. So, unless you would like this verbal altercation to become physical, I suggest you go on your merry way."

"Violence is never the answer, Sookie."

"Ugh," I groaned, pushing past him toward the cereal aisle. I could hear his laughter behind me.

* * *

The Firefly event was in less than a week now and Tara and I were in high gear with preparations. Bill had called me that afternoon, leaving me a message asking that I meet him at his office. I cleaned up my lunch and then headed over, wondering just what it is that he had to meet with me about.

When I got to his office he was engrossed in some stack of papers on his desk. For some reason, Bill Compton being engrossed in a stack of papers seemed completely right. I cleared my throat and he glanced up, a smiling flashing on his face.

"Sorry Sookie, I didn't see you there. Sit down, please."

I sat down at the chair opposite his desk. There was a small table to the side of the room with chairs where I thought a meeting would have been a lot more appropriate. But Bill stayed on his side of desk, so it seemed the meeting would be happening this way. He folded his hands on the desk, looking like Montgomery Burns from _The Simpsons_.

"Sookie, I am very excited about a new idea I've come up with for Saturday's event."

"Well, that's great," I told him. Inwardly I was thinking it was a little late for new ideas, but I'd hear him out.

"We're still showing _Gone With The Wind_, correct?"

I nodded. All of us had agreed that the best way to make the event unforgettable would be to show one of the most unforgettable films ever made. Plus, it was also the movie that The Firefly was best known for.

"I think it would really add something if we had replicas of the original movie programs that they gave out at all the premieres."

"They had those?"

He nodded and pushed back in his chair, crouching down as he pulled open a drawer and began rifling through it.

"This premiere was a big deal, Sookie," he explained in a measured voice. It sounded like he was lecturing in a classroom. "The entire country was waiting for this premiere, and so the theaters made it the event of the season." He paused, still looking through the drawer. "Now, I know I have it…aha!"

He straightened up with a battered program in his hand. He handed it over to me and said, "This one's a little worse for wear, but I don't think there'd be any trouble reproducing it."

"This is pretty cool," I admitted, looking through the program. It had a synopsis of the film with stills from various scenes peppered throughout the pages. There were also biographies of all the film's main actors.

"If we had these they'd not only be a nice accompaniment to the film but could serve as a sort of souvenir for those who attend."

"I love this idea," I said, surprised that I was actually admitting that. "Do you think we could get them made in time?"

He grinned. "Considering that I put in the order with Barry already, I think that we can definitely get them made in time."

My eyes went wide. "You already put the order in?"

"I knew it was a bit of a gamble," he said. "I didn't know if you would like it. But this was too good to pass up."

"How much did it cost?" I asked warily. The program was pretty thick, and if we wanted it to look nice and glossy I bet it would cost a pretty penny.

"He said he'd do it for a quarter of the asking price if we put an ad of his at the end of the program. While I did balk a bit at the loss of authenticity, the price cut was well worth it."

I still didn't know what that meant in terms of price and I gingerly asked, "So, that would make it…"

"None of your concern," he said simply. "Think of this as my donation to The Firefly."

"Bill, you didn't have to," I said immediately, although I was pretty darn happy that he had.

"I want The Firefly to remain here just as much as you do," he told me. "Paying for these was the least that I could do."

"Well, thank you," I said, genuinely touched that he had gone and put the money up himself. "Consider your ticket comp-ed!"

"Certainly not!" he returned. "You can't make money, Sookie, by comp-ing every person that helps you. I'd be more than happy to pay for my ticket. I insist."

I smiled. He really wasn't a half-bad guy.

"Alright, then. You'll pay for your ticket. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Without skipping a beat he said, "Yes, dinner. Are you free tonight?"

I should have seen that coming.  
"Oh, um, I have something," I said vaguely. "A very important and time-consuming something. Sorry."

It was a total line of bol shit, and either he accepted it or was too polite to do otherwise, because he nodded and said, "Of course. I understand. Well, perhaps another time."

"Sure," I said brightly. "Well, see ya!"

I turned quickly on my heel before he could try to set up anything else.

* * *

I wasn't a great cook, but that night I pulled out all the stops for Gran and my dinner. I was pretty happy with my meeting with Bill (ignoring the fact that he asked me out again) and everything else with the Firefly event was coming together nicely. I almost wasn't worried about Saturday. Almost.

For dinner I delved into the Stackhouse cookbook. It was a binder filled with recipes from Gran and my other female relatives – although there were admittedly a few barbecuing recipes in my grandpa's cramped handwriting. I picked out apple pork chops and green beans with almonds for dinner and spent much of the early evening whipping it up. It was the first night I didn't have to work at Merlotte's in weeks, and I was enjoying the independence. Gran enjoyed it, too, as it gave her a night off of cooking.

"I'm telling you, Sookie, you can cook on all your nights off," Gran said, leaning back in her chair contently. "This was a superb meal."

"Thanks Gran. I learned from the best."

She beamed. "I brought you up well. But your pork chops are moister than mine ever were. I always dry mine out somehow."

"I'd offer you my secret but I don't have the slightest idea how I got mine moist," I said with a grin.

There was a knock on the door and since Gran looked so comfortable over there in her chair, I stood up from the table and walked over to the front of the house. When I opened the door I was surprised to see Eric there. He looked winded and a smudge of some sort was on his cheek.

"Eric, what are you doing here?"

"My car broke down about half a mile from here," he said. "You don't happen to have the number of a mechanic do you?"

"Sure," I said. "It's Hank O'Loughlin."

"Okay great."

"But he doesn't work past six," I told him, watching his eyes dim.

"Not great."

"Small town business," I said sheepishly. "Just about everything closes after dinner except for Merlotte's. Hey, you have something on your cheek."

His hand went reflexively to his cheek, but as luck would have it the smudge was on the other.

"Wrong one," I said, pointing at his other cheek. Eric wiped it with the back of his hand, explaining, "I popped the hood and tried to fix it myself. After about three seconds I realized I don't know the first thing about cars."

"Can't help you there," I said. "I can guarantee you I know less."

Gran walked up behind me and I could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "I thought I heard you, Eric!"

"Hello Mrs. Stackhouse," he said smoothly.

"Did I hear your car broke down?"

Eric nodded. "Yes, ma'am. About a half mile down on Route 7."

"Well, Hank doesn't work past six," Gran said, echoing what I had said earlier.

"Yes, Sookie told me that. Is there any chance that either of you could give me a ride back to my hotel?"

"And how do you expect to get your car tomorrow?" Gran asked pointedly.

"Well," Eric began. "I guess I could have someone drive me."

"The hotel is clear on the other side of town," Gran said. "It's out of your way to go all the way there."

"Gran," I began, knowing where she was going with this. But there was no stopping Gran once she got an idea in her head.

"You'll stay with us tonight," she said decisively. Eric's brows shot up and he immediately went to refute, but Gran was having none of it. "It makes the most sense. You'll stay here tonight and then tomorrow we can call Hank and drive you out to your car."

"I don't want to impose," Eric said.

"You certainly are not," Gran assured him. "Now, have you eaten dinner yet? My granddaughter made the most delicious pork chops you'll ever eat."

"I actually haven't eaten. I was at a meeting."

"Well, then you're just in luck. Come on, dear. You can finish up the leftovers."

They walked into the kitchen and I followed behind. Gran sat him at the kitchen table – at my usual seat, I'd like to note – and she took a plate out of the cupboard and loaded it high with what was left of dinner. The food was still warm, so it only took a few seconds in the microwave to make it hot again. I watched Eric take a bite of the pork chop and thought how odd it was to see him at our kitchen table eating my cooking. This definitely was not a scene I expected to see.

"Wow," he said after he swallowed, gaze turned toward me. "This is a damn good pork chop."

Gran clapped her hands together with glee. "I told you!"

"I didn't know you could cook," Eric said, cutting into the pork chop. "If I knew, I would have had my car break down days ago."

I smirked at that. Eric would definitely be the type to stage a car breakdown to get good food.

"I don't think I _actually_ cancook. I'm a one-dish wonder, at best."

"Hey, sometimes that's all you need," he said through a full mouth.

"So, Eric, how is your work going."

"Gran," I said immediately, unable to help the outraged tone of my voice. His work was the very work that I was going up against. And, dammit, I thought my Gran at least should be on my side for it.

"Sookie, it's polite to ask," Gran said, voice reproving. "Please excuse my granddaughter's manners, Eric. Sometimes you'd think she was raised by wolves or something."

"Oh, I assure you Sookie has been nothing but perfectly behaved around me," Eric said, smirking in my direction. Without thinking I kicked him under the table and he flinched. Gran looked between the two of us.

"Did you just kick him?" she asked after a moment.

"My foot had a spasm," I said quickly. I widened my eyes to look more innocent. "Honest, Gran."

"I don't believe that for a second, young lady," Gran returned. "Now, Eric, please tell me about what you have going on. And Sookie, keep your feet to yourself."

"Demolition is set for Monday," Eric said. "That is, of course, unless Saturday's festivities change the mayor's mind."

"Will you be joining us on Saturday?"

Eric's gaze slid toward me. "I don't know if I'm really welcome there. I'm sort of the enemy and all."

"You're not the enemy," Gran assured him. "You're just doing your job. No one can hold that against you."

He was silent, and I knew he was thinking that I had done a pretty good job of doing exactly that.

"You should come," I piped in, wanting him to know that I would be okay with him going. It would be good for him to see just how much we'd achieved. We'd managed to put together a hell of an event in just a few weeks time. And, if I were being completely honest, I just wanted him there. I couldn't say why or what it meant. But when I thought of that night, he was always there.

He looked surprised, and said, "Well, I'll consider it."

* * *

Gran went to bed early and put me in charge of outfitting the couch for Eric's stay. I grabbed a few spare blankets from upstairs along with two pillows that we kept in the hallways closet. I came down the stairs, barely able to see over the pile of blankets and pillows in my arms. Luckily, I knew the layout of the house so well that I didn't need to see.

"I don't know how you didn't fall down the stairs with all of those," Eric said, watching me drop them on the couch.

"Years of going up and down them," I returned.

He eyed the several blankets and said, "I know I'm tall, but I'm not that tall, Sookie."

I gave him a look. "The blanket assortment has nothing to do with your height."

"Blanket assortment?" he repeated with a grin.

"Keep making fun of me and I won't explain them," I warned. His eyes flew open with mock concern. "Oh no. What would I do without you explaining the blankets to me?"

I gave him a look, but went through the different blankets anyway. To be honest, I was pretty proud of how accommodating I was being. Three different blankets is pretty accommodating.

"I brought you this thin one in case you run warm," I began. "And then this one here is a bit heavier, but not enough to make you sweat, you know? And, last but not least, we have your heavy down blanket. This baby will fight off just about any chill."

Eric was grinning at me, and I couldn't tell whether or not a sarcastic remark was coming up. Sure enough he said, "You have a similar riveting description of the pillows?"

I glared at him. "You know you're really an ass sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," he returned easily. I went to turn back toward the stairs to go upstairs but he grabbed my arm and good-naturedly said, "I'm sorry, Sookie. It was very nice of you to bring me all of those."

"You make it really hard to be nice to you sometimes," I said grumpily.

His face went a bit more serious. "I know."

I sat down next to him on the couch, drawing my knees into my chest. I knew I should go upstairs. It was late and I could feel my afternoon at Merlotte's catching up on me. We'd had a large lunch crowd and I was running around non-stop my entire shift. Something made me stay, though, and plop myself on that couch. Part of it was the way he had spoken before, so devoid of his usual charm and sarcasm. Another part of it was that I just wanted to stay. He didn't say anything, but his gaze was steadily on my face. To fill the silence I said, "So, you really going to come to my event on Saturday?"

"It sounds like something worth going to," he said. "Besides I've never seen _Gone With The Wind_."

I gaped at him. Who in their right mind has never seen _Gone With The Wind_?

"You're kidding."

He shook his head. "Nope. Never seen it."

"That's amazing," I said. "You know, I've never actually met someone who hasn't seen it."

"Seriously? Sookie, it's a movie from the 1940s. I would have thought most people you know haven't seen it."

I shook my head. "Not out here. That movie is practically part of Bon Temps history. It's spoon-fed to us when we're children right alongside The Bible."

"I wonder how God feels about that," Eric mused.

"I can't believe you haven't seen it. Then it's decided. You have to go." I paused for a moment and then added, "You can bring Dawn, too, if you'd like."

"Why would I do that?"

"You're seeing her, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "We've been on a date here and there."

I snorted. "She's made it sound like a heck of a lot more than that. From what I've heard, you've given her quite the show."

"We have fun," he admitted. "But that's it."

I narrowed my eyes. "Define fun."

He laughed, leaning back into the couch. "What? You want a play-by-play?"

"Certainly not," I said immediately. "You're being careful, though, right?"

He made a face at my question and said, "Are we really having this talk, Sookie?"

"No, I don't mean…" I frowned, realizing that Eric was from out of town and he didn't know everything about everyone in Bon Temps like I did. "Dawn's sort of known for trying to trap guys."

"Trap guys?" Eric repeated slowly. "What does that mean?"

"She'll tell them she's on the pill when she's not. Poke holes in condoms. Messed up stuff like that."

"You're kidding."

I shook my head. "In case you didn't catch it before, she's a raging bitch. At least in my opinion."

Eric smirked and said, "There's no loss of love between you two, huh?"

It took a second for that comment to sink in. When it did, it made me so livid that I wanted to jump out of my skin.

"She's been talking about me?" He nodded, although I wasn't looking for affirmation. "That bitch! Oh, I should have slapped her upside the head a long time ago!"

"Don't worry, I don't believe anything she says," Eric assured me. Personally, I didn't care a wink if he believed them. It was bad enough that she was saying things in the first place.

"What would she say?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

Eric shook his head. "Oh no, I'm not playing this game. Let's just say that she thought I had a thing for you, and did just about everything she could to undercut that."

I wanted to ask if she succeeded, but that would imply that too many other things in that statement were true.

"Well," I sniffed. "I think I've had enough eye-stabbing-rage for one night. I'm going to head to bed."

I stood up and he stretched out on the couch. "Night Sookie."

"Good night, Eric."

I was heading toward the stairs when he called my name out one last time. I glanced back, hand on the bannister, and he said, "I didn't sleep with her."

"With who?"

"Dawn," he clarified. "We've never slept together."

My browns furrowed in confusion. "But, she said-"

"I'm sure she's said a lot of things," he interrupted. "And I'm equally sure most of them are as fake as her blonde hair."

I snorted.

"We've fooled around a bit," he said. "But we haven't slept together."

"Okay," I said softly, not really sure what else my response should be to that particular piece of information. I paused for a moment and then said good night again. As I walked up the stairs I heard him say, "Sweet dreams, Sookie."

**A/N: Was I right? Did you love it?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: ***PLEASE READ THIS*** Well, that last chapter did not go over how I planned. There are just a few comments I want to make ****before the next chapter. First off, when I wrote that Eric and Dawn had "fooled around" I did not mean that they went and did every kinky thing besides sex. I'm not going to go into specifics (because that's not necessary) but I honestly did not intend for them to be engaging in below the belt action. Call that naive. Call it out of character for them both. That's how I intended it to be. As for Eric throwing it in her face, I'll admit that he sort of goads her with it. But that seems perfectly in line with Eric's character. While Sookie makes him a better person, he's always sort of pushing her. It's his personality. Also, Eric sleeping with women at all of his projects doesn't make him a sexual predator. If that were the case, then about half of the male population would be sexual predators. Anyhoo, I don't mean to harp on this...which I sort of feel like I did. I was just so surprised by your reactions that I wanted to show a bit where I was coming from. **

Chapter Nine

The next morning Gran conveniently found herself under the weather and told me that I would have to drive Eric back to his hotel. We'd already called Hank and he'd towed the car and was currently working on it. I didn't catch the specifics, but his car was pretty shot and he'd be taking advantage of his friends' kindness for at least one or two days.

"Sookie, put on some lipstick," Gran suggested, reaching over onto her nightstand when I came to kiss her good bye. She held out the tube of red lipstick and I shook my head, taking it from her and putting it right back where it came from.

"I'm not primping for the ride," I told her, shaking my head. "It's bad enough that you're playing fake sick to make sure I'd drive him."

"I'm not fake sick," she held stubbornly. She added a small cough for effect.

"Oh, stop it," I said. "You haven't been sick since the Cold War."

"Are you sure you won't put on just a little lip stick?" Gran pressed. "It really livens up your face."

"No lip stick."

"What about putting your hair down? You have such beautiful hair."

The woman was impossible. I bent down and kissed her quickly on the forehead.

"My lips and hair are fine the way they are," I said. "Bye Gran."

"Bye sweetheart. Tell Eric that I say goodbye, too!"

I went down the stairs and Eric was waiting by the door, looking surprisingly fresh and clean in the same clothes he'd worn the day before. If I slept over at someone's house like he did I'd look about as good as rat's ass the next day. Somehow, he almost looked better.

"Gran says bye," I told him, stepping past him to open the door.

"I'm sorry to hear she's under the weather," he said, following me. "What does she have again?"

"A warped mind," I returned.

He laughed. "Is that the medical term?"

"My Gran has better health than both of us combined," I said. I unlocked my car and both of us got in. "She's under the weather now because she wanted to make sure I drove you. Which, for the record, I was already going to do."

Eric smirked. "Why would she be so dead set on you driving me? No offense, but I've seen the way you drive."

"Hold it right there, bozo," I returned. "I'm a great driver. I got a perfect score on my driving test."

Eric laughed. "You know your score on the driving test? I didn't know they gave those out."

"They usually don't but I asked for mine. Glad I did, too."

"Okay, fine," he relented. "But why is your Gran so set on this again?"

I stole a glance at him and said, "You can't be serious. You don't know?"

"That's why I'm asking."

I turned my attention to the road again.

"All Gran wants for me in life is to find a nice respectable man to settle down with and give her lots of granbabies. And you, Eric, are a nice respectable man."

Eric laughed. "Am I?"

"I know," I said. "I was a surprised as you."

"Hey, I like to think I'm respectable."

"Sure you do. Everyone likes to think they're respectable. It's just like everyone likes to think they're funny or good in bed."

"So?"

"Not everyone can be funny and good in bed," I continued. "Just like not everyone can be respectable. There has to be some awful, dull, dud-in-the-sack people in the world. It's a sad but true fact."

"So, you're saying I'm not respectable?"

"No," I admitted, although his dealings with Dawn had dropped him a few rungs. "I'm not saying that. But I _am _saying that upon closer inspection you're probably not the gallant Rhett Butler that my Gran has dreamed of me finding."

"Rhett Butler?" he asked in confusion.

I shook my head. "You really need to see _Gone With The Wind_."

"So, your Gran's rooting for us, huh?" he asked, grin evident in his voice. Sure enough when I glanced his way his mouth was pulled into a wide smile. I saw then that he liked the idea of Gran rooting for us.

"She always had a weakness for lost causes," I returned sarcastically.

Eric paused for a second. "You're quoting _Gone With The Wind_, aren't you?"

I nodded happily. "You catch on quick."

"You know, with all these references you're going to spoil the movie for me."

"Nuh uh," I said, shaking my head. "That's not possible. _Gone With The Wind _is un-spoilable. It's practically Spam."

He was quiet for a moment, and I wondered what he was thinking as I stole a glance at him. His face was unreadable, although I noticed his jaw was tense. After a moment he said, "Do you really think I'm not respectable?"

His question gave me pause. I definitely didn't find his as nauseating as when we first met. Some would even say we were friends now. But, did I think he was a respectable guy? The type of guy I'd take home to Gran?

"I think you could be," I finally said.

There was anther stretch of silence, and while it wasn't uncomfortable I was itching for some sort of conversation.

"How's your event going?" he finally asked.

"Sniffing around the enemy?" I returned playfully.

"Just curious. Are things coming together?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding. I had on my brightest smile, but even I could hear that my voice didn't match it. The truth was that I was getting nervous. The event was only days away and all of our hard work and dedication came down to ticket sales that we still weren't one hundred percent sure would be there. I told Eric this and he asked, "What sort of media do you have covering it?"

"All the local places," I said. "Tara did a real good job. It's just that the local places are…local. I'm afraid they're not going to bring in the numbers that we need."

"No point worrying about that now," he said reasonably.

"Sure. I can worry about other things," I said tensely. "Like everyone getting food poisoning or the film reel not working."

"You're going to give yourself an ulcer."

"If I knew what that was, I'm sure I would."

I pulled up in front of his hotel and shifted the car into park.

"Now, don't you go expecting me to cart you around any more," I warned him. "The Stackhouse Chauffer Company is officially closed."

He smirked. "Pam has a car. I'll just make her cart me around, as you put it."

I nodded. "Good. Well, Eric, enjoy the rest of your day."

"I'll see you around," he said, climbing out of the car. He closed the door and to his retreating form I said, "It always seems to end up that way."

* * *

I had an afternoon shift at Merlotte's and and I got there a little late, hurriedly pulling on my apron while Sam walked out from his office. He didn't comment on my being late and I was appreciative of that. Gran had pressed me for a play-by-play of my carried with Eric, which hadn't exactly put me in a good mood.

"Arlene covered a few of your tables," Sam told me. "You're going to want to be extra nice to her today."

I nodded. "Gotcha."

On my way to my section I passed Dawn, and noticed that she wasn't her usual self-grandiozing self. She kept glancing at her phone as if she were waiting for a call and I wondered if what I told Eric the night before had knocked some sense into him.

I stopped at my tables, taking a few orders here and there. Most of them were already set with Arlene, but there were a few that needed refills. One woman had me check that her Coke was diet.

"Hey, thanks for covering for me," I told Arlene, sidling up to the bar next to her. "You're a lifesaver."

"It's no problem," she said "So, I heard you were driving around with Eric Northman this morning."

I frowned, planting my and on my waist. How the hell did news (or lack thereof) travel so fast in this town? Dawn's behavior made a whole lot of sense now. She probably heard about our morning outing and now was barraging Eric with phone calls. I'd have felt bad for him, but what did he expect from a two-bit like Dawn?

"Nothing happened," I assured Arlene. By the droop of her face, I could see it was assurances she was looking for. Arlene had thought there'd be some good gossip to hash out. I wasn't sorry to disappoint.

"Nothing ever happens with you," she said unhappily.

"Sorry," I said with an unapologetic shrug. "The Sookie Stackhouse life is pretty uneventful, and that's the way I like it."

"Well, as long as you're happy," Arlene said, although her voice didn't sound nearly as cheerful as I think she intended. I filled the sodas up for my tables and stepped around her on my way back onto the floor. I spotted Tara over by the entrance and she waved me over.

"What's going on?" I asked, worried that she was beckoning me at work. Usually she just sat herself at the bar.

"You are never going to believe what I just heard."

"What'd you hear?"

"You know that talk show I always listen to on my way home from the gym?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's, uh, The Morning Show with Kathy Lakehouse, right?"

"Uh huh. And guess what she was talking about this morning?"

I shrugged. "Pie?"

"Pie?" Tara threw back, just about two steps from a huff. "And why the hell would I come all the way out here to tell you about her talking about pie? She was talking about The Firefly event!"

"She what?" I said loudly, drawing a few looks.

"She said it's her top recommendation for things to do this weekend. Even said she'll be going herself."

"I can't believe this," I breathed out. "But how did she even hear about it? You think one of the news stations here sent her something?"

"I don't know," Tara said, her mouth pulling at a wide grin. "But I don't give a rat's ass. Do you know how many listeners Kathy Lakehouse has? It's more than all our people combined!"

"We might actually pull this off," I breathed out, my stomach fluttering.

"Tara, why are you always distracting my staff?" Sam asked, joining our little twosome. He gave me a look to get back to work, but I was too excited to head right off.

"Sam, guess who was talking about The Firefly event?" I asked excitedly.

"How about you tell me while we walk to the bar, huh? Maybe you can fill a few drink orders there?"

"Kathy Lakehouse!" I exclaimed, drawing eve more looks at the familiar name. Even that stopped Sam, and his mouth pulled into a wide smile as he said, "Sook, that's amazing! How'd you manage that?"

"No idea!" I said, almost delirious with excitement. "But she's going to be there and hopefully a whole bunch of her listeners."

"I love Kathy Lakehouse," a tattooed man at the table next to me gruffly said. "That lady knows how to run a radio program."

I beamed. "That she does. What can I get ya?"

* * *

The news of Kathy Lakehouse's coverage of the event spread fast, and for the rest of week Tara and I were busy with last minute preparations and fielding new press requests as they flooded in. It seemed that all the few Bon Temps media stragglers needed was Kathy Lakehouse's stamp of approval. We almost had too much media now, but we reasoned that more coverage was better than not enough.

"You think there'll be room for anyone else with all the cameras?" Tara had joked.

Despite the whirlwind of a week, I found myself remarkably calm on the actual day. I kept my afternoon shift at Merlotte's for some sense of normalcy, but then left an hour early to get ready for the event. I'd spent a lot of time picking out my outfit, and settled on a cranberry wrap dress that showed off my tiny waist. I added a teardrop pendant that Gran had given me for my high school graduation and then with a touch of make-up and quick brush of my hair I was ready.

Gran took longer, setting her long hair into elaborate coils on the back of her head. I didn't know how she did it on her own, but about thirty minutes after I was ready she came down the stairs in one of her smart dress suits and her hair perfectly coiffed. I saw she even put on a bit of make-up.

"We clean up well, Gran."

She grinned. "You bet we do. Are you ready, sweetheart?"

I took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

I drove us to the theater and the entire way I had butterflies in my stomach. It wasn't nerves, though. I think I'd nerved myself out throughout the week. All I had left was excitement, which wasn't a bad thing. We got there early, but even then the parking lot was nearly full. We walked inside and people were all mingling inside the lobby. It occurred me then that this could be their last chance for a night at The Firefly.

I spotted Kathy Lakeouse over by where the tickets were sold – or to put it more correctly, I heard her. She gave me a small smile when she caught my eye, and I wondered if she knew who I was.

"Sookie!" Tara said, coming beside me and grasping my arm tightly. "Can you believe all the people here already? And the movie doesn't start for another hour!"

I grinned, taking another glance around the room. Gran had walked over to the usher and took one of the programs that Bill had gotten printed. She came back over to us and said, "Sookie, these are just like the original!"

"It's a genuine reproduction," I said. "Bill Compton from the Historical Society set it up."

"Oh my," Gran said softly, leafing through the program. "This brings back memories."

More people were filing in, and I was beginning to worry we'd overfill the place. I spotted Pam over by the entrance and told Gran that I needed to make the rounds with Tara. These people were going to be the reason we kept The Firefly, after all. They deserved a little hobknobbing. Tara took one part of the theater and I took the other. Pam happened to be on my side, and she shook my hand with grudging respect as she said, "You really put something together here."

"Thank you," I said. "To be honest, I wasn't sure we'd pull it off, but here we are."

"Here we are, indeed."

I glanced to the side were Kathy Lakehouse was standing and said, "Although, I have to admit that I kind of feel like half the people are here because she talked about it on her show. Not complaining, of course. People are people."

Pam's gaze slid to where I had been looking and she nodded. "Oh yes, Kathy Ireland. I still can't believe he got her to cover this."

I stared at her in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I thought he was insane, but obviously it worked."

I still wasn't following, although I was starting to pick up bits of the trail. "Pam, what are you talking about?"

Pam stared at me for a moment and then her eyes widened. "You don't know."

"Know what?"

"I shouldn't say," Pam said immediately, although the tone of her voice told me she'd be easily swayed.

"Pam, tell me."

"Alright fine," she relented. "Eric talked to the Lakehouse woman and convinced her to cover your event."

"Why would he do that?" If we won he lost a big project. Why would he help me?

"Stupid question, Sookie," Pam said drily. "You know why."

With that she walked away, gliding seamlessly through the room. I spotted Eric over to the side, chatting with some of the women from the sole Daughters of the Glorious Dead meeting he attended at my house. I walked over and gently took a hold of his arm.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, gaze wary. He excused himself from the older ladies and I led him over to the closest private area I could. It still wasn't that private. People were no further than a few feet from us still, but there were worse places to be standing.

"Is everything okay?" he asked slowly.

"You got us Kathy Lakehouse," I said, not posing it as question.

"Yes," he said. "I got you Kathy Lakehouse."

"Why?" I asked. "Why would you do that?"

He paused and then said, "Because I want to be the type of person your Gran would want you to end up with."

Well, that shut up just about anything else I had to say. He was looking down at me with a gaze stripped of charm or sarcasm. This person before me was hardly recognizable.

"According to her, you already are," I said lightly, attempting at levity. He didn't take the bait, the easy segueway to our comfortable banter. I wished that he would.

"Our talk when you drove me home that morning got me thinking, Sookie. I want to be that stand-up and respectable guy," Eric said. "I know I haven't exactly made the best example of myself in that respect. I've been all over the place with you, and then there was Dawn."

"Was?" I asked tentatively.

"Was," he repeated. "You really think I'd do anything else with her after what you told me? I know I can be stupid, but I'm not _that _stupid."

"So, you want to be respectable?"

He nodded. "I know trying to tackle my personal life is a tall order, so I decided to work on my professional first. You told me once that my business was a reflection of my character."

"And you very strongly disagreed," I added.

"Yeah, well, everyone's entitled to be wrong a few times," he returned. "Even me."

There's the sarcasm I knew.

"So…" I said leadingly.

"I've never been fully behind this project," he said. "Not since I met you and this town. I don't want to be the company – or the person – who tears it down."

I stared at him. "So, this means that you…"

"I pulled out of the project this morning," he said.

"You did?"

He nodded. "It won't change anything if tonight doesn't pan out how we hope it will."

_We_.

"But it was the right thing to do," he finished. "You know, for my journey to being at least a half upstanding and respectable guy."

I didn't know what to say. This was a lot to throw at me at once, and my mind was having trouble keeping up with it all. Some commotion caught my attention and I saw that Jason had just entered the theater. Eric saw my diverted gaze and said, "Go on with your mingling. I'll talk to you after the movie."

"Okay," I said. I stood there in silence for a beat and then turned, walking over to where Jason was standing. He was dressed nicely in one of his Sunday suits and I saw that he'd even shined his shoes.

"You look nice," I said, pulling him into a hug.

"You too, sis. Is this a new dress?"

I gave him a look. "I wore it at Christmas, dufus."

"Oh. Well, it still looks great on you."

I grinned and gave his arm a swat. I noticed that his gaze followed each female that passed. He was like a lion hunting out a nice shapely antelope.

"Stop it," I said, giving him a look.

"What?"

I pointed my finger at his face and told him, "You will not use my event to pick up girls, you hear me?"

"What good is coming all the way out here, then?" he returned stubbornly. And right here was the perfect representation of our brother-sister-relationship.

"How about supporting your sister? I worked really hard on this."

"And it looks great," he said, patting my arm. Dawn Green walked by and his eyes followed her hungrily.

"Nuh uh," I said sternly, taking a hold of his chin and turning his head back to face me. "She already got messed up with one of mine, she will not be getting messed up with you. Besides, you should know better."

"I was just looking."

"Well, look elsewhere," I said. "But not here. I won't have you slinking off to some supply closet with the nearest girl with loose panties."

"What does a supply closet have to do with anything?" he asked, genuinely confused. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"Just keep it in your pants, Jason. For one night. Think you can do that for your big sis?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "Is there at least liquor at this thing?"

"After the movie," I told him, stepping around him to head toward the usher. I could hear his groan behind me.

After a bit more mingling the time came to shuffle into the theater. I had been debating whether or not to ask Eric to sit with Gran, Jason and I. First I thought that it wasn't really necessary. He had Pam with him and whatever other people he'd brought. He'd be fine on his own. But then I decided that I didn't care who he brought. I wanted him next to me, and that was all that really mattered.

"You're sitting with us," I told him and he didn't argue. We settled in a bundle of seats at the center of the theater. I didn't tell anyone this, but they were the same seats that I'd been in with my parents that night we saw Star Wars. Eric was where my dad had been that night.

"This movie better be good after all of your talking it up," he said, leaning in toward me so that I would hear him over the cacophony of other voices. His shoulder brushed against mine.

"It will be," I told him succinctly. "This is the one movie guaranteed to not disappoint."

"There's the talking up again," he said with a grin.

Before the movie started Bill went up on stage to give a few introductory remarks. I'd asked him to do it a few days before, thinking that some historical notes about the film could be interesting. I was happy to see that he kept it short. Just a few remarks about how groundbreaking the movie was and then he was rambling off back to his seat next to Selah Plummel, who I'd heard batted off about three old ladies for that prime seating. Bill Compton didn't know what he had coming for him.

My body thrummed contently with the swell of the Tara theme. I crossed my legs, settling back into my seat. Despite my deep love for the movie, I found my gaze drifting over to Eric. His profile was illuminated from the glow of the screen. I'd never spent much time considering his profile, but it was a pretty nice one. He had a nicely shaped chin and his nose was perfectly straight. He placed his hand on the armrest between us and I tore my gaze back to the screen.

* * *

Nearly four hours later the movie was over and there wasn't a dry eye in the theater. I glanced over at Eric and saw that he was not immune to the movie's sweeping story, either. He was wiping his eyes and I laughed without meaning to.

"Shut up," he said, sounding like me.

"I told you it's a great movie," I said triumphantly.

"It was pretty good," he admitted.

"Better than pretty good," I pressed. "It's the greatest movie ever made."

He grinned. "I don't know if I'd go that far."

"Damn right you should," Jason said, leaning forward in his seat. "Sookie, this guy doesn't know what he's talking about."

I laughed. "It's okay, Jason. He's an out of towner."

Jason nodded slowly as if that were all the explanation needed. He neglected to realize that he technically was an out of towner now, too.

"So, what's next?" Eric asked.

"Drinks and appetizers in the lobby," I said. "You get to have your beer now, Jason."

"Amen," Jason said happily.

"Dear, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to head home," Gran said, standing up. "All this excitement has tired me out."

"Do you want me to drive you?" I asked immediately.

"Don't be silly," she said, flitting my suggestion away with a flutter of her hand. "I've been driving more years than you, dear. I'll be fine. Jason, you give your sister a ride home tonight."

I grinned at that. Nothing was a better cock-block than having to end the night with your sister. Jason saw what had happened and frowned.

"Fine. Can we all stop standing on ceremony and getting some damn beers now?"

I patted his arm indulgently and said, "Sure Jason."

We all headed out into the lobby and Jason and I gave Gran a quick hug before she left. I noticed a few of Gran's friends leave too, and thought that it was becoming a young person's party. One of Ms. Retta's dancers passed with a tray of champagne and Eric grabbed me one and took one for himself.

"Tonight was amazing," he told me, holding out his champagne flute for a toast. "To saving The Firefly."

"We don't know that yet," I said warily, although I wanted nothing more than to clink my glass with his and believe it were true.

"Well, then we won't make it a congratulatory toast yet. It'll be a…hopeful toast."

I smirked. "A hopeful toast?"

"It's new," he said simply. He raised his glass again. "So, to _hopefully _saving The Firefly."

I laughed, raising my glass and gently clinking it against his. "To hopefully saving The Firefly."

* * *

The night wore on and I received so many congratulations and warm words that I felt a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with the champagne. This was what I had envisioned for the event, Bon Temps and its neighbors coming together to save something truly extraordinary. My heart was filled with so much joy and gratitude that I felt like I couldn't take more.

"Sookie."

I turned around and grinned at Bud Dearborn. He'd been the head of security tonight, and while initially I thought him and his people weren't necessary, the influx of Kathy Lakehouse listeners made him unbelievably useful.

"Thanks again for helping out tonight," I told him. "Turns out we really needed you."

He nodded stiffly. "No problem, Sookie. Is there somewhere a bit more quiet we could go?"

"Sure," I said. "How about we step outside? Most people are staying indoors to escape the mosquitos. They're really out tonight."

Bud nodded, leading the way outside. I passed Tara on my way out and gave her a big smile. When I'd gotten outside Bud had taken his hat off and was running his hand through his hair. I didn't realize how tired he looked inside, but beneath the moonlight I could see every deep line on his face.

"Bud?" I asked softly.

"Sookie." The way he said his voice made my stomach twist. "There's been an accident."

**A/N: This was supposed to go up tomorrow (my birthday!) but your reaction to that last chapter had me wanting to churn this out so I could give my response. Hope you enjoyed this.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I was going to post this tomorrow, but y'all are getting it a day earlier! Hope you enjoy this!**

Chapter Ten

I staggered into the theater, looking around for Jason. The crowd that I had earlier championed now felt stifling, and I felt nausea creep up on me as I tried to push my way through the throngs of people. I couldn't see where the hell my brother was. This was just like him to disappear when I really needed him. I spotted Eric over to the side and I went over to him.

"Eric, I need you to help me find Jason."

He had been talking to someone and turned toward me with a wide grin. It faded the moment he saw my face.

"Sookie, what's wrong?"

I felt my bottom lip tremble and I murmured, "Gran…"

He took a hold of my arm, and I didn't even know until that moment that I had lost my balance. He slipped an arm around my waist and I leaned heavily against him. Jason. I had to find Jason.

"You look on one side," I said, straightening up. "One side of the room, and I'll look on the other. We need to find him."

"Alright, but I don't want you by yourself." He looked over my shoulder and barked, "Pam! You stay with Sookie."

Pam walked over and said, "What am I your lap dog?"

When she glanced at me, though, her sarcasm melted away. She came right to my side and asked, "You alright?"

"I need to find Jason," I repeated. It was the same damn thing I'd been saying for the last minute.

"Alright, come on. We'll find him."

I sorted through the people, my heading whipping back and forth as I scanned the room. I felt more and more hopeless with each person who wasn't him. What if he had rebelled, and decided to go home with someone? What if he hadn't gone home with someone, but found a place to shack up in or near the theater? The possibilities were endless and nauseating. Thankfully, I didn't have to think through much more of them because Eric caught up with us, Jason in tow.

"Oh, thank God," I said, throwing my arms around Jason's neck.

"What's going on with you?" he said irritably. "You know, I was having a nice conversation with Annabelle Perkins."

"Gran was in an accident," I blurted out, unable to make the admission any more tactful. Jason stared at me, as if he hadn't heard. "Did you hear me?"

"Gran in an accident?"

I nodded. "Bud Dearborn just told me. One of the sheriff's who found her car called him, and –"

"Found her car?" Jason visibly paled and he put a hand to his mouth. "Oh my God. Sookie, she's…"

"I know," I said, grasping his arm tightly. "I know."

Gran was all we had left, and now we might lose her, too.

"I'll drive you to the hospital," Eric said.

"Jason has his car," I said immediately. The night was already ruined for Jason and I, and I didn't want it ruined for anyone else.

"Neither of you are in a condition to drive," Eric said. "Let me take you."

"We'll be fine," I pressed.

"Sookie, one accident tonight is enough," Eric said, his voice so final that it sent a chill down my spine.

"Alright," I said, nodding. "You can drive us."

"Pam, I'll see you tomorrow," Eric said. I went to follow him, but was surprised when Pam pulled me in for a quick hug.

"Hang in there, Sookie. From what I've seen, you Stackhouses are fighters."

Tears welled up in my eyes and nodded, pressing my lips together to keep from crying before turning and following Eric and Jason out the door. We piled in the car in complete silence, Eric and I in the front and Jason in back. I'd never driven with Eric before, so I didn't know his usual driving skill, but even I could feel his hesitance during that drive to the hospital. He stopped completely at all stop signs and remained a safe one or two miles below the speed limit.

My legs felt like jello when we got to the hospital, and I was thankful for Eric when he opened my door and helped me out. I grabbed onto Jason and held his arm tightly as we walked up to the entrance of the hospital. Something about hospitals had always given me the heeby jeebies, and tonight was no different. I didn't like the constant bustle and beeping. It made me feel like any sort of horror would wheel around the corner. The receptionist was wearing cotton-candy-pink scrubs, and I found them oddly comforting as I asked her where Adele Stackhouse could be found.

She typed in the computer and I waited anxiously, digging my fingers into Jason's arm. He must have been as anxious as I was, because he didn't make a single comment and I knew I'd leave marks. After a moment the receptionist looked up and said, "She's in surgery right now."

"Surgery," I breathed out, a rush of nausea coming at me like a semi-truck. I grasped the counter tightly as my head spun. I felt a pair of hands go to my waist and when I came back to my senses I was seated, the receptionist hovering at the side nervously.

"Are you sure she shouldn't go to the ER?" she asked.

"She'll be fine. It's just the shock," I heard Eric say. My head was still too hazy to focus on anything happening. "Thank you for your help."

The receptionist walked off, I could see the movement of her cotton-candy-pink scrubs, and I closed my eyes, wishing fruitlessly that when I opened my eyes I'd be in my bed and this was all a terrible dream. When I opened them, I was still in my chair in the hospital, my stomach growing heavier and heavier with dread.

"I'm going to get you some water," Eric said. I wondered where Jason was and then realized he was sitting next to me.

"What if she doesn't make it," Jason murmured. "What if she-"

"No," I said fiercely. "She's going to make it. She has to."

"She's in surgery, Sookie. It's usually bad when they're in surgery."

I shook my head stubbornly. We couldn't lose anymore people. It was in this same hospital fifteen years ago that we had sat with Gran, hearing the doctors tell us that our parents were gone. One minute we had parents, and the next we didn't. That couldn't happen again. There was only so much strife and heartache that a person had to go through in one lifetime. Surely, Jason and I had enough.

"I'll move back to Bon Temps," Jason said. "I'll move back and we can be a family."

"Jason-"

"Shrevport's not that great, anyway. Their burgers aren't nearly as good as Merlotte's. Besides, Gran would want me to come back."

"Stop it!" I said loudly, drawing a few looks. I lowered my voice and hissed, "Stop talking like she' gone."

"But she might be."

"She might _not_."

Jason turned away, leaning his head back. I knew this was hard for him, maybe even harder than it was for me. He'd been hell sent on leaving Bon Temps once he turned eighteen, but I think a part of him always felt guilty for leaving Gran. She'd practically raised us, after all, and he booked the moment it was legal. He tried to make it right. He called every Saturday and talked to her. He never forgot her birthday. Still, he knew there was a part of Gran that could never forgive him for leaving.

Eric returned with water for both Jason and I. He took the open seat next to me and told me to drink the water when all I did was hold it.

"You don't have to stay," I said sheepishly after I'd had a few gulps of water. "We're okay now. Honest."

"I want to stay," he said simply, and I didn't argue. I liked him being there. Something about his presence was oddly soothing, and it was nice to have someone who wasn't a complete wreck around.

"Well, this certainly made tonight unforgettable," I said, slouching in the seat.

Eric chuckled. "Not the way I would have hoped, but I guess you're right."

I was quiet for a moment, thinking about when Gran had left. It had been late. The sun had long set, and I knew Gran's eyesight hadn't been the best lately.

"I should have driven her home," I said softly. "I knew it was late. I should have driven her."

"Sookie, she wanted to drive herself."

"I know, but I should have made her let me drive. Like you did with us. I should have made her let me take her home, and then we wouldn't be here."

"You don't know that, Sookie. Freak accidents happen. It could have all happened anyway, but you'd be in an operating room, too."

The thought made me shiver.

"Don't start doing the what-if's," he said. "It won't help you or Gran."

The front doors of the ER opened and Tara flew in, hair falling out of its chignon as she rushed over. It was clear that she had left the party in a hurry, and I hoped that others hadn't similarly rushed out to see Gran. We didn't need anymore visitors. It was hard enough keeping it together with the ones we had.

"Sookie," she said, crouching down and pulling me into a tight hug. "I came the minute I heard. Do you have any news?"

I shook my head. "She's in surgery. That's all I know."

She nodded, looking over to Jason and giving his hand a quick squeeze.

"I told Sam. I hope you don't mind." I shook my head. "He said he'll be here in about twenty minutes. He just needs to shut down Merlotte's."

My eyes widened. "Sam's closing up early tonight? Tara-"

"I tried to tell him that you wouldn't be happy," Tara interrupted. "But you know how Sam gets when he's made up his mind."

"Yeah," I said. "Well, thanks for coming."

"Of course. You think I wouldn't come here when I heard what happened?"

I smiled softly. "No, Tara. Not for a second."

"Good. I'd hate to think I was the type of friend that made you question whether or not they'd come when your Gran's in the hospital."

She moved over and pulled a seat up by us. We were a quiet group then, all of us waiting for news. I noticed that Jason was fidgeting and I reached over and took a hold of his hand. We were sitting like this when the doctor came by with news. I straightened up immediately and grabbed Eric's hand on my other side.

"Yes, doctor?" I said expectantly. I was wound so tight as he spoke, that it was a wonder I heard anything he said.

"Your grandmother came in with extensive internal damage. She cracked a rib, and it caused some internal bleeding. We were able to stop the the bleeding, though, and set the broken rib."

"That's good, right?" I said. "Right?"

"It is," he said. "But she also sustained an injury to her head, which has caused her brain to swell."

My stomach dropped.

"We're going to have to do some scans to see how much actual damage there is. There won't be any definitive answers tonight, though. I recommend you try to get some rest tonight. We'll be able to give you more answers tomorrow."

Tears streamed down my cheeks and I wiped them away angrily. Crying wouldn't do any good. Crying wouldn't get Gran out of this damn hospital. I felt Eric put his arm around me and I pushed him away, angry at him for coddling me, and even angrier at myself for needing to be coddled. I wanted to go. I wanted to be anywhere but this hospital, where all I ever seemed to get was bad news.

"Take us home," I said, wiping my nose. "Please, just take us home."

* * *

Eric dropped us off at our house and said he'd take Jason back to the theater some time tomorrow to pick up his car. I stayed by the car for a moment by myself as Jason walked to the front door. Eric rolled down the window.

"I'm sorry about earlier," I said, feeling ashamed at how I had acted. " I just-"

"It's okay," he said. "You're under a lot of stress. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay. And thank you for everything, Eric. You have no idea how much having you there helped."

He smiled a bit. "You're welcome. I'm glad I was able to be there. Now, try to get some sleep tonight."

I laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, I'll try. Night, Eric."

"Good night, Sookie."

He drove off and I walked back to the house, wondering what horrors awaited us tomorrow.

**A/N: So, it's my birthday today. Do you know the best gift I could get? Lots of reviews from you lovely people!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you for your feedback! Hope you enjoy this!**

Chapter Eleven

It was a slow morning in the Stackhouse house as Jason and I attempted to operate on little to no sleep. Despite my telling Eric I would try to sleep, I ended up spending most of the night cleaning my room. Gran always scolded me for it being so messy, and that night I had an overwhelming urge to get it clean. I heard Jason down the hall watching television, so I vacuumed without worry that it would keep him up. It wasn't until around four in the morning that I felt it was clean enough, and then I proceeded to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a knock on the door.

"Sook, can you get it?" Jason called out loudly. I spit out my toothpaste quickly and wiped my mouth on my wrist as I walked downstairs. When I opened the door Eric was standing there with a box of donuts.

"I thought you guys might like something sweet," he said.

"We sure would," I said with a grin. "Come in. I'll make some coffee."

It took him a moment to follow me into the kitchen, and when I glanced back I saw he'd taken off his shoes. It was a house rule driven mostly by Gran, and it touched me that he did it even though she wasn't there.

"You know it's enough that you're chauffeuring us," I said. "You don't have to feed us, too."

"I don't mind," he said, sitting down at the table. "So, how much sleep did you get last night?"

I pulled a coffee filter out of the cabinet and put it in the machine. As I put three scoops of coffee grounds in the filter I told him, "About thirty minutes worth."

"That's what I figured."

"I didn't expect much more," I said with a shrug. If I were being honest, I didn't even feel that tired. I was too worried to be tired.

The phone rang and I stood up, padding over to where it was house in the telephone caddy. I picked it up, smiling a bit when I saw Tara's name on the caller ID.

"Hey Tara."

"I just got a call from our books guy about last night."

"Okay." We'd hired a guy last minute for the event to handle all the money. Tara and I both looked at one receipt together and knew we'd needed someone with more expertise than us.

"We raised over 300,000 dollars."

"We what?" I said loudly, leaning heavily against the counter. Eric rose from his seat, thinking something was wrong, but I gestured for him to sit back down.

"You heard me," Tara said, grin evident in her voice. "300,000 big ones!"

"How is that even possible?"

"People put up more than ticket prices," Tara explained. "Even though we didn't ask for it, people gave donations. Most of them were, you know, fifty or one hundred dollars. But one person gave ten thousand just himself."

"Who?" I asked, eyes sliding over to Eric.

"No idea. He did it anonymously. But, Sook, can you believe it?"

"I can't," I said honestly. I'd hoped we'd do well, but I never thought we'd do _that _well."

"Have you heard from Mayor Newman?"

I shook my head. "Haven't heard a peep."

"Well, if you do, then you call me right away!"

"I will."

There was a pause on the other side and then Tara asked, "You hear anything about your Gran?"

"Nope."

"No news is good news, right?"

"Sure," I said, although I didn't know if I fully believed that. I glanced back at the coffee machine and saw half the pot was full. Right then, a cup of coffee sounded like heaven.

"Tara, I'm right in the middle of breakfast-"

"Oh, you eat! I didn't mean to interrupt. I just thought you could use some good news this morning."

I smiled slightly. "I did. Thanks Tara. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

I hung up and walked over to the coffee pot. I pulled two mugs from the cabinet, checking to make sure there wasn't anything in them. When I was little I'd found a spider in one of the mugs, and I've checked ever since. They were clean, though, so I poured the coffee and brought them to the table.

"How do you take your coffee?" I asked.

"Black."

"Good. Me too."

I sat down, exhaustion hitting me suddenly. That coupled with my mounting worry proved to be an unpleasant combination. The coffee that had seemed so wonderful moments before tasted like tar. I watched Eric take a sip of his coffee, and when he made no face knew it was my taste buds acting funky and not the coffee.

"I'm guessing that was Tara?" he asked.

I nodded. "We raised $300,000 last night."  
His eyes widened and he laughed aloud. "Well, shit. I guess I'm out of a job."

I grinned slightly. "You don't know that yet."

"$300,000 isn't chump change, Sookie. That's a real showing of just how lucrative that theater can be."

"I hope," I said. I needed good news. I thought about the person who donated $10,000 and tentatively asked, "You didn't give more than your ticket price, did you?"

Eric glanced at me over the rim of his coffee cup. "No, why?"

"No reason," I said quickly. I stretched my arms in front of me and arched my back until I felt it crack. I dropped my hands to the table and then reached forward to the donuts. Maybe they'd fare better than the coffee. Eric watched me as I opened the box and picked out a chocolate glazed donut. I took a tentative bite and was relieved when it tasted exactly like a donut should. He saw the relief written on my face and said, "Expecting something else?"

"My taste buds have been off this morning," I explained. "But this right here, is a damn good donut."

He smirked. "Glad to hear it."

"Hey, donuts," Jason said happily, walking into the kitchen. He nodded toward Eric and then asked, "Is that coffee for everyone?"

"Yep," I said. "Mugs are in the cabinet above the machine."

Jason got himself coffee and then joined us, taking a jelly donut out of the box. We ate our donuts in silence, counting down the moments until we'd have to return to the hospital. I cleaned up when we were finished and then we headed out together. I stepped close to Eric and said, "You don't have to do this with us, Eric. Yesterday was more than enough."

"I want to be here," he repeated.

"And you always get what you want, huh?" I asked.

He gazed down at me. "With you, usually not."

His words struck me, and after everything we had been through I reached down and took his hand in mine. I gave his hand a light squeeze and said, "You can drive."

We got into Eric's car again, just like the day before, and he drove us to the hospital. I felt my nerves kick in with full force when he parked and I indulgently took his hand again. Something about him was soothing, and when his thumb stroked the back of my hand I almost believed everything was going to be alright. We checked in with the nurse and then were told to take a seat.

"I feel like all I do is sit here," I told Eric, placing my hands on my knees.

"It's all you can do."

A moment later the doctor walked over to us, looking fresh and neat in his white labcoat. I wished I'd at least brushed my hair that morning. I'd been too anxious to do more than pile it into a bun.

"Mrs. Stackhouse is scheduled for surgery this afternoon," he said. "The surgery will last for a few hours. I'll have someone give you more information when it's available."

"Okay," I said, nodding.

"There's some time before the surgery, though. You can see her if you'd like."

"Yes," I said immediately. "Yes, please."

The doctor nodded, leading us toward the room. The hospital was like a labyrinth, and I found myself wondering how we'd ever find our way back to the waiting room. After what felt like a dozen turns, the doctor led us into the room. Gran was in the bed, hooked up to a variety of machines. I felt numbness spread through my body.

"She's not conscious," the doctor explained levelly. "We put her in an induced coma to keep her brain from swelling any further."

"A coma?" I murmured in a small voice.

Jason stepped forward, taking Gran's hand in his. "We're here, Gran. I'm here for you."

Jason kept babbling at her side like some repentant sinner, and the machines around her kept beeping, and beeping, and beeping. Gran was just lying there with a tube in her mouth and her skin the color of her cream drapes. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to celebrate this morning. We were supposed to talk about last night and go through all the gossip. She wasn't supposed to be in a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of her.

"Excuse me," I said hurriedly, turning and leaving the room. I found a nearby sitting area and sat down, wrapping my arms around myself. Eric followed me and sat next to me.

"It's bad," I choked out, tears rolling down my cheek. I felt like an idiot crying. Gran hated people who fell to pieces at everything. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks, and I felt all the more like a traitor for it. "It's really bad."

"She'll be okay," he said, sliding an arm around my shoulders. I resisted for a moment, but then rested my cheek on his shoulder. "You need to believe that."

"She's all we have left. Jason and I. She's all we have left, Eric."

"That's not true."

"It is."

"No," he said firmly, turning his gaze toward me. "I saw how people came together to help you with The Firefly event. I saw how people supported you. There's Tara. There's Sam. There's…" he trailed off, jaw tightening. "My point is, you have a lot of people who care about you. Jason, too, I'm sure."

"I just can't lose her," I said in a small voice. "I can't."

He tightened his hold on me and I leaned further against him. It felt nice to be held. It'd been a while since I had that. After a moment I glanced up at him, my lips parting when I saw the look in his eyes. I began to tilt my face up when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I moved away abruptly and pulled the phone out of my pocket.

"Hello?"

Eric seemed to look everywhere but me while I talked on the phone. But then I hung up and said, "Oh my God."

"What is it?" he asked, gaze on my face.

"We saved The Firefly."

* * *

Pure elation and crippling worry are strange bedfellows. While on one hand I was elated at the news of The Firefly, I also couldn't help but think that if Gran died today I would never be able to set foot in The Firefly again. I knew it wasn't the event's fault, but I couldn't help but think of it as the reason that Gran was in the hospital.

It was the afternoon and Gran had been in surgery for just over an hour. Eric, Jason and I were in the cafeteria attempting to stomach the food. Its unpalatable nature had nothing to do with my nerves and everything to do with the food itself.

"Is it just me, or is the only edible thing the fries?" Jason asked.

"It's not just you," Eric said, pushing aside his burned cheeseburger. "You'd think they'd make the food better in a place where people are pretty much forced to stay."

"You'd think," I echoed.

"I'm going to get us another order," Jason said, standing up. "You guys want anything else?"

I shook my head.

"No, I'm good," Eric said. Jason walked off and Eric asked me, "Are you feeling better?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I am. Thanks."

He nodded, falling silent.

"Eric," I began softly. "About before…"

"We can just forget about it," he said.

Before I had let him get away with this, but not now. We'd been through too much.

"I don't want to forget about it," I said softly. He looked surprised and I reached over and laid my hand over his. "I'm not saying I ready for something now. It's…with everything happening…"

"Okay," he said simply, curling his fingers around mine.

"Okay," I echoed, smiling slightly. I saw Jason returning and removed my hand from Eric's.

* * *

We were out in the waiting room when the doctor came out to update us on the progress of the surgery. I tried to read his expression, but I couldn't pick out anything of significance.

"We had some complications during surgery," he began, and my stomach plummeted. "But we were able to get everything under control and the surgery ended up going very well. She'll be out of commission for a while, but she should make a full recovery."

"A full recovery?" I repeated slowly.

The doctor smiled and said, "I mean she should be perfectly fine."

"Oh," I breathed out, my back relaxing into the chair. Perfectly fine. Gran was going to be perfectly fine. Before I could fully think what I was doing, I had stood up and threw my arm around the doctor's neck. He laughed, giving my back a few pats.

"Thank you," I breathed out. "Just…thank you."

"You're very welcome," he said.

"Can we see her?"

"Not yet," he said. "I'll send my intern when she's ready for visitors."

"Okay. Thank you, doctor."

He walked away and I settled back in my chair, tears streaming down my face. I hadn't even realized I was crying, and then once I started I couldn't stop. Jason was crying, too, next to me, and I thought to myself that Eric was dealing with two crazy people. But he didn't seem to mind as he slipped an arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

**A/N: Reviews would make this a very happy Friday :D**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you for your feedback! Hope you enjoy this!**

Chapter Twelve

Two days after Gran was out of surgery we were able to finally take her home. Eric had work to finish up at the office and had called me that morning apologizing for his not being there. I told him that he already did more than enough, and I meant it. He had somehow become my rock during all the hospital madness, and I could never thank him enough for it.

Sam came to the hospital to help Jason and I with Gran, and he was all jokes and teasing as we wheeled Gran out. It was exactly what Gran needed, because she was embarrassed that she'd caused such a fuss. If Gran hated anything, it was making a fuss.

I glanced down at her and watched her gingerly touch the brightly colored scarf wrapped around her head. They'd had to shave her head for the surgery, and I fetched the scarf from her room to help her get over the shock a bit. I could tell from her demeanor that it hadn't helped much.

"You know, all the nurses were talking about you," Sam said, leaning down conspiringly as he wheeled Gran out of the hospital.

"I can't imagine why," Gran said in her soft voice. "Unless, of course, you mean about my having my head cut open."

I couldn't tell if she was joking or upset. Sam seemed to go with the first and said, "Well, besides that, they all were wanting that scarf on your head. I heard one of 'em – the one with the crazy eye – say she wanted to snatch it right off your head."

Gran smirked, and I was grateful Sam was there. "Over my dead body. Which I think we've established will not happen for some time."

We got to the car and I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She always smelled like powder, even when she'd been cooped in the hospital for days. Sam and Jason did much of the work of getting Gran in the car while I held the door open. I was happy to see that Gran wasn't too weak. She was a little wobbly on her feet from being horizontal for so long, but she had no problem swinging her legs in and buckling her seatbelt. I climbed in next to her, letting Jason sit up front with Sam.

We drove past The Firefly on the way home and it held my gaze, my head turning as I watched it pass out the window. I sighed without meaning too and Gran reached over and took my hand.

"Don't let this ruin what you did," Gran told me. She'd heard all about The Firefly being saved the day before, and she was correctly reading my thoughts. "You did a fine thing, Sookie. Don't let anything take that away from you."

"I'm just glad you're okay," I said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Me too," she said. "I would have hated to have missed Mayor Newton's scrunched up face when he admits that you beat him."

I laughed lightly. "I didn't just beat him, Gran. We all did."

"No, sweetheart, this was you. This was all you."

I guess in a way she was right. While the desire to keep The Firefly was there before, it was my giving it a voice that had gone and done the job. I wasn't someone used to accepting praise, but I took this one moment to bask in it.

We got back to the house and Jason and Sam took out the wheelchair on loan from the hospital, unfolding it before helping deposit Gran in it. She insisted on doing much of the moving herself, and as she gracefully lowered herself into the chair I thought to myself that Gran looked pretty dignified in that colored headscarf. It wasn't the same as the coil of braids she'd worn at The Firefly event, but Gran was the sort of woman who could look dignified in a burlap sack.

We got her inside and then set to getting her settled in her bedroom. I'd amassed a whole variety of books and magazines the day before, and painstakingly went through them with Gran just so she knew exactly what she had to look through. I pulled out the US Weekly I'd picked up the day before and told her, "If you're interested, there a whole lot of shirtless men in one of the articles. I bookmarked it for you."

Gran grinned wide and I was pleased to see she hadn't lost her spark. "Dear, you know how to treat a sick woman."

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading out to make me some tea in the kitchen. My phone rang and I pulled it out of my pocket, smiling to myself when I saw Eric's name flashing on the screen.

"Hey," I said, wedging the phone between my shoulder and cheek as I set on making the tea.

"Did you get Gran home okay?"

I nodded, and then verbalized the response. "Yeah, we just got her settled in now."

"Did she like all those magazines you made me come with you to pick out?"

I laughed. "She loved them. Thank you for coming with me, by the way. Your US Weekly suggestion went over wonderfully."

"I'm glad," he said. I could hear the grin in his voice. "So, I was going to stop by after lunch. Does that work for you guys?"

"You're welcome here any time, Eric," I said honestly. "But lunch should be fine."

"Alright, good. I still have some work left here to finish up, but I should be able to make it there by mid afternoon."

"Okie dokie," I said, feeling a sort of thrill run through me. Gran was safe in her bed. Eric was coming over after lunch. Everything seemed right in the world. "I'll see you then."

"Bye Sookie."

"Bye Eric."

I clicked out of the call, slipping my phone back into my pocket. I reached over for a tea bag and hear Sam walk into the kitchen behind me. He came and stood next to me, watching me steep the tea bag.

"That was Eric," he said. I didn't know if it was meant as a question or a statement.

"Yep," I said, figuring that answer worked well with both.

"You know, that guy surprised me," Sam said. "First there was all that weird stuff with you. And then Dawn. I can't say my opinion of him was very high."

"I can't blame you," I returned. My opinion hadn't been too high, either.

"But he's really been here for you through all of this."

"He has," I said, opening the cabinet to my right and pulling out the honey. Gran liked her tea sweet, and I gave the honey bear a hearty squeeze.

"But he'll be leaving soon, won't he?"

That was something I'd been trying to not think about. I knew from the beginning that Eric had an expiration date. In the beginning, that had been a blessing. Every time he pissed me off, I reminded myself that he wouldn't be here forever. When he went from pissing me off to confusing me to no end, I reminded myself that in due time the confusion would be over. Now, with everything that had happened, I was conflicted at best about his leaving.

"That's how it goes," I said, trying to make my words sound light. "It's the nature of his business."

"You're okay with that?" Sam asked. I glanced up from the tea and saw that he had his serious face on.

"Why should I not be?" I asked him.

"Because you clearly have feelings for him."

I shook my head, opening the silverware drawer and taking out a spoon. "Sam, stop."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt. After all this with your Gran, I don't want to see you in pain."

I knew that he meant well, but I didn't need to add his concern on top of everything else that I was dealing with.

"Well, there's not much you can do about that," I told him softly. "There isn't much I can even do about that. He's leaving and that's that."

"That's that, huh?"

I nodded firmly. "And there's no use dwelling on it. You want to bring this tea to my Gran? I think I'll fix her some toast, too. I don't know how much she had to eat this morning."

"Sure, Sook."

He took the tea, but not before giving me one of those pitiful looks that made me want to stomp on his foot. He turned away before I could do any such thing and I leaned against the counter heavily.

* * *

Around lunchtime, the town began steadily appearing at my front door. All of them came with warm wishes and some sort of food straight from their kitchen. I hadn't expected this outpouring of support, and neither did my refrigerator.

"Maybe if you move Caroline Bellefleur's chocolate cake," I suggested, standing behind Tara as she tried to find a place for Bitty Tarrington's pan of chicken and rice.

"Does that cake even need to be in the refrigerator?"

I shrugged. "She said it did. I don't really see why it does."

"Alright, well, it's your house so you decide what goes in the rerfrigerator," Tara said, twisting around to hand me the casserole. She pulled out the cake and set it on the counter. "Now, let's see if this fits."

The pan ended up fitting perfectly where the cake was, and Tara stepped back to admire her handiwork. We both felt pretty good about ourselves until the doorbell rang and even more food arrived. This time it was Arlene and her infamous tuna casserole. Arlene made it for every potluck, and people avoided it like the plague. It had too much tuna, too much cream, and too much of just about everything else.

"You want me to leave this out and you can give your Gran some for lunch?" Arlene asked, beaming at the prospect of Adele Stackhouse feasting on her tuna casserole.

"Oh, that's so thoughtful of you," I said slowly, trying to drum up a good enough excuse to not serve it. "But, um-"

"Gran's requested a sandwich," Tara interjected, already pulling the bread and cold cuts from the refrigerator. I let out a tiny breath of relief. Good old, Tara.

"Oh, well, alright," Arlene said, visibly deflating. "Well, maybe she'd like some for dinner."

"I'm sure she would," I said, lying through my teeth. That casserole would be in the garbage the minute Arlene left. "Would you like to visit her now?"

"Yes, I would," Arlene said, nodding. "Her bedroom is…"

"Up ahead to your right," I explained quickly. "You may have to share her with a few people, though. She's a very popular woman today."

Arlene smiled. "I bet. Alright, I'll be back later."

I nodded, smile plastered on my face until she was out of sight. I turned to Tara, who was in actuality making herself a sandwich, and said, "Thank you for the save there."

"No problem," Tara said, taking a bite of the sandwich. "I figured Gran landing in the hospital once this month was enough."

I snorted, reaching forward and plucking one of Ruby Forrester's muffins from the basket she brought. They were blueberry, and when I took a bite the sweetness filled my mouth. I heard the jingle of the front door opening, and after a few moments Eric walked into the kitchen. I had an overwhelming urge to throw myself at him, but I kept to my side of the kitchen like a good girl.

"You've got quite the spread here," he noted, glancing around at the assorted baked goods on the kitchen counter. He offered Tara a small greeting and she raised her sandwich in acknowledgment.

"You should see the refrigerator," I said.

Eric smirked. "This town really does care."

"It's actually more that Bon Temps doesn't know what to do in a crisis besides cook and bake," I filled in. "It's like our version of nervous smoking."

He laughed. "So, what are you eating over there?"

"Ruby Forrester's famous blueberry muffins," I said. "They win at the county fair every year."

"Really?"  
I nodded. "It's quite the controversy, actually, because Bon Temps is on the border of our county. Most people don't even consider us really part of it since we're so tiny. But every year Ruby shows up at the fair and takes all the prizes. I'm pretty sure there's a price on her head."

"You have such intrigue here," he teased. "I'm going to stop in and say hi to your Gran."

I nodded and he walked out toward her bedroom. Tara was tellingly quiet, and when I glanced at her I saw she was smirking.

"Shut up," I said.

"What? I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. Your face was saying a whole lot on its own."

Tara grinned. "I just think it's funny that a few weeks ago you wouldn't have thought twice about pushing him in front of a bus. Now he's hobnobbing with your Gran."

"Gran always liked him," I pointed out.

"Maybe she saw something we all didn't."

I laughed. "No, she didn't see a lot with him. Believe me. But he's been really great with all of this."

Eric came back into the kitchen and said, "Your Gran's room is overrun with people. That's one popular lady."

"That's because she's looked after about half the town."

He laughed. "Do you want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air?"

I shrugged.

"Sure," I said, placing my half-eaten muffin on the counter. I looked back at Tara. "Can you take care of any other food that comes in?"

"No problem."

"And make sure Arlene doesn't try to sneak Gran some of that tuna casserole."

Tara sniggered. "Oh man, she _would _try to do that."

Eric and I walked outside, the slight chill in the air making me cross my arms over my chest. Eric noticed and shrugged out of his suit jacket, draping it over my shoulders. I smiled up at him gratefully.

"Busy few days," he said.

"You can say that again," I returned. "I'd be happy for some boring and normal in my future."

He laughed. "I don't blame you."

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the light breeze blowing my hair from my face. He cleared his throat and I glanced up at him.

"We're almost done wrapping up all The Firefly plans," he said.

All I could manage was, "Oh."

"Since the project was cancelled we'd had to deal with alerting all the potential buyers and closing out some deals."

"Sounds like a lot of work," I said, feeling just a bit sorry that I was the cause. Just a bit.

"It's all a part of it," Eric said. "Believe me, this isn't the first project that's fallen through."

I hadn't thought of that, and it made me feel better.

"So, how much longer are you all here?" I asked tentatively.

"Most are heading back to New Orleans this weekend," Eric said. My stomach dropped. This weekend was two days from now. Two days. In two days he would be gone.

"That fast, huh?" I murmured.

"They have other work to get back to."

I nodded, wrapping my arms around my torso despite his jacket covering my shoulders. There was a beat of silence and then he said, "Pam and I will be here a bit longer, though."

I stopped walking, my feet rooted in the ground. He stopped, too, and when I looked at his face he was smiling.

"You are? But why?"

"Your mayor offered me another project," Eric explained smoothly. "It's much smaller scale, so I don't need my entire team here like before. But, it should keep us here for a good three or four months."

"Three or four months," I murmured, so happy that I felt I might burst. "What's the project?"

"The Firefly's restoration," he said. His smile was wide, and he was clearly proud of the news he was telling me. "Mayor Newman saw real potential at your event, and he thought that potential would be even greater if we restored The Firefly to it's former glory."

"I thought that would take a lot of money."

"It won't be cheap," he agreed. "But Mayor Newman thinks it'll be worth it. He said something, too, about the town having to respect its roots."

I grinned. "Its roots, huh?"

"All those speeches you gave did some good," he said.

"So, you're really staying for three or four months?" I asked, wanting to hear him say it one more time. He nodded, stepping closer to me.

"Yes. I'm staying."

His hands found my waist and I stepped closer without really thinking, my hand resting on his chest. He dipped his head down toward mine and when our lips met I swear I saw fireworks. This was nothing like that kiss in the bar weeks back. We'd been at odds then, even as attraction crackled between us. Now, we were perfectly in tune. There was no rush or desperation in the kiss. He kissed me slowly, hands sliding around to my back to press me further against him. I didn't want the kiss to end, even as breathing became increasingly necessary. When the kiss did end we stayed close, my cheek pressed against his chest.

Against his shirt I murmured, "I'm really glad you're staying."

**A/N: I'm planning on this being the final chapter besides a small epilogue that will be posted sometime later this week. Thank you all so much for reading and sharing your thoughts. I've loved every minute of writing and sharing this story with you all.**


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